


The Space Between

by Limitless_Musings



Category: Hakuouki, InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Murder, Mystery, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-02-26 11:57:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13235253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limitless_Musings/pseuds/Limitless_Musings
Summary: A murder investigation, an unwilling witness and a clouded sense of justice. In between solving this case or saving a life, Okita knows that there's only one thing he that can count on: Himself.





	1. The Murder of the Century

Disclaimer: I don't own jack!

 _Summary:_ Every day he walked the razor thin line between morality and depravity. Amid his sense of justice and unrealistic ideals stood a girl—an unwilling witness to the space between reality and madness.

_Pairing: Okita/Kagome_

_Suggested Listening:_ Honeythief by Halou

_**The Space Between** _

**Chapter One:** Murder of the Century

"Eleven months ago Omoikiri Inuyasha was found dead in the Omoikiri Enterprise's newly constructed building." A feminine voice rattled off from the bright flicker of the television screen. A man sat in his recliner and stretched his legs comfortably across the leg rest. "He was seventeen years old and head of his school's Kendo Club." Ah, the useless details came first. Something to draw in the viewers and illicit sympathy from the poor saps. He reached into the front pocket of his jacket. His fingers brushed against the familiar carton of his preferred brand of cigarettes. It'd been a habit he picked up back in his early days of patrolling the streets. It had a calming effect on his nerves so he never really tried to kick the habit. The man brought the cigarette to his mouth and swiftly used a spare lighter lying on his armrest to light up. A thin, curling line of smoke billowed into the apartment.

It was always cold as shit in this house. The heater was busted and barely worked at the best of times. So coffee and smokes ended up being his preferred method of keeping warm. Of course he could always pay a technician to repair the damn thing but with the mortgage as high as it was, he'd rather just freeze. The man stretched his legs comfortably as he took a long inhale and allowed his body to relax. With a low exhale, another pillar of smoke billowed into the living room in curling waves.

"He was found strangled and severely beaten to death. An anonymous source reported the murder however no new details have emerged from the case since." The reported shuffled her papers as she lifted her head to stare directly into the camera. "If anyone has any information, please call our hotline directly at…" He tuned out at that point. It was just a flimsy excuse to keep the murder current in the media outlets. The one year anniversary was coming up so the Omoikiri family, more specifically Omoikiri Touga, put the pressure on the news stations to maintain interest in Inuyasha's untimely death. He took another long drag from his cigarette. Good luck with that. Even though it'd been labeled as the "murder of the century" by eager reporters due to the high profile of the Omoikiri name, interest would slowly dwindle away and die off before any real work could be done. Well, it wasn't like he cared all that much about public perception anyways. His job only consisted of solving the crimes everyone else was content to forget about. He was certain Inuyasha would be no different.

"What a shame to lose such a talented young man…" They droned on from the television. Suddenly more of the news anchors pitched into the topic, feigning sympathy to garner higher ratings. What a crock of shit. His hand shifted to change the station but found himself drawn in at the last tidbit of their conversation. "A vigil will be held next month at midnight for Inuyasha. His family will be in attendance." They swiftly moved to the next subject.

"I'm sure that more information will come out soon. Now, onto traffic…" He snorted once more. What she didn't say was that there _wasn't_ any more leads. No finger prints, no blood, not even the tiniest bit of fabric or hair from the perpetrator. It was almost as if Inuyasha had caused his own murder. Although that whimsical theory wouldn't explain the severe beating he'd taken and bruising around his neck. The marks that were left were indicative of another person. Not only that but judging by the size of the bruising and extensive damage done to his body from the scuffle, it was surmised that his attacker had been a male. A female wouldn't have been able to leave such large marks around his neck. Nor would she have been able to beat him that bloody without a weapon. The entire murder had been committed bare handed.

So with an unarmed suspect, no evidence and not even a trace of what the perpetrator used to cover his tracks, they were stuck in a serious bind. Of course there were two options left that they could presume. The first, he was murdered by a ghost. The man nearly allowed a snort to pass his lips at that thought. He wasn't exactly the type of person to be caught up in the fantastical or superstitious, so the idea of some disembodied entity killing a living being was simply ludicrous to him. Which left the final and most likely option, he'd been killed by someone who knew how to clean up after themselves. His brows furrowed at that. Now _that_ was something he could believe in. The question was how could he have kept his prints off of the body while strangling his victim? There wasn't even a trace of latex or any fibers from cloth-type gloves. His mood darkened even more. He hated this sense of helplessness. It was his damn job to figure this shit out and suddenly everything had ground to a halt. No witnesses. No murder weapon. Not even the inkling of an enemy in the kid's life.

He supposed that it could've been an attempted kidnapping gone wrong. However there was little evidence to support that either. Inuyasha had gone to that construction site with the intent to meet someone. Someone he knew and trusted. Someone he thought that he could talk to without interruption or putting himself at risk. While most ransoms were committed by those close to the victims, it still seemed odd to him that of all the kids in that family, Inuyasha was their chosen target. He was strong and more than capable of defending himself. If a person really wanted to get at Touga then they'd be more likely to go after Higurashi Kagome or her younger brother, Higurashi Souta. Both were related through marriage but they were weaker and easier targets to grab. The idea of a ransom being the motive for the attack dwindled further and further into the nothingness of impossibility the more he thought about it.

In spite of these already cloudy circumstances, there was one aspect of this case that continually bothered him: The caller. The person didn't just call in to report a body; they'd called as the murder was occurring. The time of death had been placed between 21:00 and 22:00. The call had come in right at 21:17. Not only that but they didn't stick around long enough to give their statement to the police. The person had fled the scene and the phone that they'd recovered a couple of blocks away in an abandoned parking lot was merely a burner—no identifiable information had been left on it whatsoever. No contacts. No calls in or out other than the one placed to the station. Even the serial number had been scratched off. They were forced to try to track it down and when they did, they only found Inuyasha to be the purchaser. It was a strange set of circumstances to begin with. So whoever it was that tossed that phone had seen the murder and ran. He took another drag from the cigarette. If only they had a lead…

His own phone began to vibrate noisily on his other armrest. Reaching over he grasped at the device and slid his finger across the screen.

"What'd you find?" There was no need for a formal greeting. The man on the other side of the line would've agreed as well.

"We've identified the caller."

Okita froze. Seriously? Just like that?

"You certain?" He pressed tentatively. The other male gave a noise of agreement.

"Yes. We managed to recover some testimony of a girl fleeing the scene minutes after the call was placed to dispatch. We tracked down nearby surveillance cameras and figured out her identity." There was a brief pause along with the sound of papers being shuffled. "Our caller is Higurashi Kagome. She was spotted running from the Omoikiri construction site that night and was later caught on camera at a gas station two blocks from the murder."

The detective gave a thoughtful hum. Higurashi Kagome? They'd interviewed her of course in the initial round of the investigation. To say that she was 'odd' was an understatement. She was seventeen at the time and hardly looked up from her interlocked hands. She gave single-syllabic answers and only responded when she'd been spoken to. It'd been suspicious but he figured it to have been part of the grieving process for her as well. Perhaps that was the wrong assumption? He ran through the information in his mind once more. Higurashi Kagome was the step-daughter of Omoikiri Touga and step-sister of Omoikiri Inuyasha. While her mother, Higurashi Izumi, had been married to his father for three short years, they'd been in contact with one another since the early days in their youth. To put it mildly, she and Inuyasha had been childhood friends long before their parents decided to tie the knot. He scratched at his chin as this new found information processed in his mind.

"How do we know that she's only the caller? She could very well be an accomplice to the killer." It wasn't unheard of for suspects to call in their own crimes. Usually it was done as a means to throw suspicion off of themselves. Still it was very odd to call in and then run the way she did. It indicated fear. But fear of what? Being caught by the police, or being caught by the killer? Now, where to go from here…

"Unlikely. She was filmed on a surveillance camera with a cell phone similar to the one we recovered. She returned to the same station later without one and made a call on a payphone outside." The other man paused. "She's our caller but I do not believe that she's the one responsible for Inuyasha's death."

He gave a small sight, "So you think she's a witness? Saw the murder first hand, called it in to stop it, then fled when she realized that her step-brother was dead?" The dots did seem to connect, but there were still a few issues. Why toss the phone? Why not give her testimony to the police? She'd kept her distance from this entire investigation. This whole situation screamed of malicious intent.

"Indeed, however it's just conjecture." His partner added.

"You mean a hunch." Okita let loose a mirthless laugh. All those TV dramas and cop shows emphasized the importance of an investigator's hunch—always leading them in the right direction and solving the unsolvable. Well, that was a load of shit to begin with. They weren't anymore or any less intuitive than the average person on the street. What separated them from Joe Blow screaming at his television about who the killer was in his favorite episode was the fact that they had _experience_ in detecting lies. The evidence was the gold standard of getting a conviction, but being able to tell who's lying and who's being honest was an imperative skillset when dealing with killers.

"Well regardless, Higurashi is involved somehow. Lets see what we can get out of her tomorrow." There was another sound of agreement for before the line went dead. Eleven months and finally they had a new lead. Okita's gaze drifted towards the abnormally thin file upon his table. Perhaps it was time to review the evidence with a new perspective. A smirk drew across his lips. It was time to solve the 'murder of the century'. He flipped open the file and pilfered through the facts. Through his window he spied the beginnings of dawn starting to bleed over the horizon.

 **A/n:** This was a bit of a gritty idea that I'd came up with originally. It was only supposed to be what I like to call a "Monster One-shot" (30K word+ single chapter one shot) but given how intense OPAH is right now and the fact that I want to remain focused on it, I've decided to do smaller "bite-sized" chapters with this story. I've still got a two part series coming up, but I'll post that once I've polished a few things. Anyways, let me know what you think! ;P


	2. Keeping the Silence

Disclaimer: I don't own jack!

_Pairing: Okita/Kagome_

_Suggested Listening:_ Dead to Me by Melanie Martinez

_**The Space Between** _

**Chapter Two** : Keeping the Silence

Kagome shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair. She placed her hands under her thighs and clenched her legs together—a vain hope that maybe it would warm her just a tiny bit. The winter had set in full just outside the tiny, squat building of the district's police precinct. Their town was a small but well known one all the same. Per Capita more wealthy people lived in this tiny city than they did in Tokyo. Her step-family being one of the top names that ran circles in the tabloids daily. Her lips twisted downwards. Gods she hated that. It was a serious pain in the ass.

Her eyes drifted towards the false ceiling hanging above her head. Dark brown stains stretched over the top where water had once flooded the ceiling. A particular scent of mold and body odor seemed to permanently thicken the air. The teen snorted through her nose. Sure officers worked long hours, but were they so incapable of hiring someone to do the repairs for them? It seemed rather odd to her that the town with the most money to go around did nothing for the police force that supposedly protected them. Or was there perhaps money being hemorrhaged to an outside source somewhere? That did seem quite likely.

She arched her back until she'd nearly leaned over the entire back support of her chair. It'd already been three hours since she'd been dragged into this little interrogation room. There weren't any windows. There was no noise. There wasn't even a whiteboard or phone. Just a two-way mirror, a table and some plastic chairs the likes of which she hadn't seen since her primary years. Within her the sleeve of her parka, she withdrew a mechanical pencil. It wasn't ideal but it had been all that she managed to grab before the detectives hauled her down to the station. Kagome's lips twisted downward at the thought.

Honestly, it was a pain in the ass having to come back here. It'd been almost a year since she had last been pulled into this very same room. Back then her step-father had been beside her the whole time. He'd kept the conversation short and to the point—not allowing the officers to do more than ask simple questions of her whereabouts during the night. At the time she hadn't a chance to even register what was happening around her. She'd been so deep in shock. The teen started to scratch into the soft wood of the desk. So small was their budget that even the desk was made of the cheap wood from elementary schools. At least this would make her task that much easier. For several minutes the only noise that filled the room was that of her pencil scratching against the surface of the table.

Inadvertently her mind began to wonder. It was true that she could call on her step-father to help bail her out of this situation but it felt entirely wrong to do so. Her lips twisted downwards. She didn't like it. She didn't like it at all. Kagome had never really felt comfortable asking her family for anything. It'd been ingrained in her since her youth that to make a request was to impart a burden unto those around her.

_"Silent, child. You shall burden others with your menial requests."_

Oh how easily those words had slipped past her mother's lips without a care in the world. At least she didn't have any for anything outside of her own vanity. Ah, yes that was right. Kagome herself meant virtually _nothing_ to the woman who'd given her life. Next to beauty, alcohol and sex, Kagome was just the burden that she couldn't get ride of. Out of all the things her parent had said, 'menial' had been the word that was thrown at her the most. The teen's request for simple items such as fitting clothes and shampoo were "trivial" at best and utterly "bothersome" on most occasions. Memories of the cold, bitter nights filled her mind. The smell of booze and rotting food invaded her senses as if she were still living in the squalor that was once a shrine. It wasn't like she wasn't used to it by now. From one hell hole to another, all without any semblance of care. Except for _him._ However even now there was a snide voice in the back of her mind, whispering viciously about her true feelings on the matter.

She was a burden. Her life held no meaning to the ones who'd brought her into this world. Still...

Her hands curled tightly around the pencil still being held firmly between her fingers.

Still she wanted desperately to find her purpose. She didn't want to die a meaningless death. To live with no meaning and to die without even trying to find it... that was unthinkable to her.

Her scratching stopped as she finished the word she'd wanted to carve. If she couldn't say the things that she wished then she'd leave her message the best way that she could. It'd be small but it was still _something_. That was all that mattered. Kagome slipped the pencil back into the security of her sleeve. She sat stiffly in the hard, plastic chair under the blast of the AC Unit. The harsh fluorescent lighting blared down from the ceiling of the otherwise colorless room. She briefly wondered how much longer it'd be before someone finally came to talk to her. She steeled her heart. No matter what they threw at her she couldn't talk. Not for their sake.

The door to the tiny, frigid room suddenly swung inward. The teen's eyes were riveted to the two silhouettes darkening the entryway.

"Good evening Omoikiri-san," A cheery voice greeted her. It was only evening because they'd kept her waiting for so long. She had arrived in the early afternoon. They knew that since they had been the ones to yank her from school and into the back of their car. Kagome's expression soured. She hated that name. Although she was certain the man already knew as much. He was taunting her. How typical. Unfortunately for him she wouldn't break so easily.

"Higurashi." She corrected him curtly. Lifting her head, she steadied her gaze upon piercing emerald eyes. "I prefer to go by Higurashi if you don't mind."

"Heh?" The almost stranger drawled curiously. "You dislike it that much? Interesting."

She turned her head. There was nothing interesting about teenage rebellion but she couldn't state that frankly to him or his partner. It'd only draw more suspicion onto herself.

"Well Higurashi-san," The man corrected himself with a slight laugh, as if he was only using the name to humor her. "I'm Detective Okita Souji and this is my partner Saito Hajime. I believe that we've met once or twice before." The other male gave a curt nod at his introduction. "We just have a few questions we'd like you to answer if you don't mind." There was a subtle threat behind his words. Just the slightest glint of a warning reflected in his eyes. She might not be a prime suspect but they weren't above detaining her to get the answers that they wanted.

Her lips thinned. This night just got a whole lot longer.

"Then ask. Don't bullshit with me." The man now known as Okita raised his brows at her brusque response.

"Angry?" His voice still held that teasing note but his gaze was sharper now; hardening into an edge of suspicion.

"Anger, frustration, what's the difference?" She sat back and sighed. "Besides we all know that you're just doing this because of the anniversary. It's not like talking to me is going to get you any viable leads."

Wrong again. She had all the leads. In fact she was the only person capable of bringing this mystery to an end. She bit the inside of her cheek and held her tongue. She couldn't talk. Not here. Not to these people. There was still one person that needed her; that required her silence for their protection. So long as their life was at stake, she'd keep her mouth shut. It was the only thing she could do. But that didn't mean that she was _completely_ incapable of leaving the breadcrumbs necessary. Her thumb instinctively rubbed against the engraving she'd left in the desk.

"Funny," Okita's slanted grin grew sharp. "I didn't think you were privy that sort of information. Tell me _exactly_ what it is you think you know. Because I can guarantee you that you're wrong on all accounts." The man slid into the seat next to her. He folded his arms over the desk and leaned forward on his forearms. The scent of coffee and cigarettes hit her nose. She shot him an odd glance. It would seem that even officers had their addictions—coffee being one of the worse. He leaned heavily on his arms, purposely invading her personal space. It was a show of intimidation but she didn't so much as flinch. It wasn't like there was much that startled her anymore. Not after that night…. Her mind trailed off.

"Are you arresting me?" She wouldn't have access to legal counsel until the court proceedings. Mostly because she _loathed_ having to deal with her step-father's lawyer. The man was as dirty as they came. For now she could keep her silence. That was her only option at this point.

"You're not under arrest." Saito took a seat on her opposing side. The dark haired man placed a thin, manila folder on the table. Casually his deft fingers opened it to reveal an image of herself. On the bottom corner she observed the timestamp. 21:21 on the dot. The date was, of course, the night of the murder. Her fingers curled into tight fists over her jeans. She'd been caught. Well almost anyways. The image was grainy at best. But still she was visible from the corner of the camera's angle. Her back was just facing close enough towards the front of the store that her face could be made out among the darkened outlines of the parking lot. In her hand was the phone she'd long since disposed of.

She was screwed.

"Tell us exactly what happened the night of the murder, Higurashi-san." Unlike Okita's blatant aggression, Saito was more subdued. A fiery determination burned in his azure eyes as his tone remained calm and even. He reminded her of water. So placid on the surface yet so violent beneath the currents. She had to keep her oath.

Kagome spoke nothing. Her brows furrowed as she pushed the folder back at him. She couldn't talk. Not here. Not now. Not like _this_. As if sensing her resolution, Saito pressed forward.

"Being silent will do you no favors. You will only incriminate yourself." He gestured towards the picture. "We have enough evidence to place you at the scene of the crime the night it happened. We also know that you were the one to call it in." His partner watched her intently, keeping a keen eye on her for any sign of deceit. She _really_ fucking hated this part. How had her life gone to shit so quickly? From bright student to being suspected as an accomplice to murder. Just how much worse would it get from here? Her teeth gnashed together.

"What did you see?" The ferocity in that oddly quiet voice almost spurred her to speak. How desperately she wanted to lay out all the answers. It'd be so easy too. She could just open her mouth and spill all the dirty little secrets that family would rather keep locked away forever. Inuyasha was dead because of her. Now she couldn't even do him the proper service of putting his killer behind bars where he belonged. The pinprick of blood formed beneath her nails. She had to remain strong. She had to keep her silence.

"I…" The teen started. However just as swiftly as she spoke, the door to the absurdly small interrogation room flung inward. At the threshold stood Omoikiri Touga. His long hair pulled back in a low ponytail, his eyes a vision of protective fury and his clothes in disarray. It almost seemed as if he'd been sleeping prior to rushing down here. That was not unlike him recently. He'd worked longer hours at the office and spent less time at the house. As a result he usually slept on a bed he'd brought into the alcove of his office suite. Like a shadow, Naraku followed in behind him.

"Release her at once! She's not a suspect!" Touga rushed to her side. Thick hands pulled her to her feet and tried to usher her through the door.

"Hey now, that's not exactly what our evidence is saying here." Okita drawled conspicuously. The man stood, the chair causing a piercing screech beneath its cheap metal feet.

"No matter. She is being released. You cannot keep her." Naraku held up a paper that she could not read. "If you wish to talk to her then collect your evidence and file charges. Until then, she's free to go." Her step-father placed himself between her and the detectives eyeing her as she went. His hand went to the small of her back. It was meant to be a comforting gesture but there wasn't any need. Kagome closed her eyes momentarily. The detectives would be angry now but in just a few mere minutes they would get one small answer that they were seeking. A tiny smile tugged at her lips. Just a little bit longer. That was all they needed.

**A/n** : Bahahah! These 2k chapters are much easier for me to write for a change! Plus it helps keep my mind on track. So anyways, things are starting to heat up a bit. I'm hoping to get the next chapter out within about three to seven days from now since I want to refocus on OPAH as well. Anyways, what do you guys think? Getting just a bit of perspective from Kagome's view and a bit more of the mystery as well. ;P


	3. Against the Clock

Disclaimer: I don't own jack!

_Suggested Listening:_ Gasoline by Halsey

_**The Space Between** _

**Chapter Three:** Against the Clock **  
**

Okita eyed the teen intently. He could only watch as Omoikiri Touga gently pushed at his step-daughter's shoulders—urging her out of the interrogation room away from them. Ummei Naraku threw a wayward smirk at his partner before he too turned on the ball of his heel. His fists clenched tightly at his sides in frustration. Damn it all. Now they had to start over again. Just as the girl made the slight turned from the threshold of the door into the corridor that would lead to freedom, she cast a small, almost understanding smile his way. Then she walked away. Kagome's hair whipped behind her as she moved to leave their custody.

Once the trio was gone, Okita slammed his fist into the wall of their tiny room. They'd almost gotten it out of her too! If Touga and his nightmare of a lawyer hadn't intervened, then they probably would've been able to get her to talk about that night. She'd been so close to opening up. Just two more minutes. That was all that they'd needed. His teeth gnashed together as the urge to light up another cigarette hit him. Great, now he was going to have his night shot to shit because of all this. This was going to bother him for weeks to come. They were too damn close to give up on the lead now. His mind went to the boy who's death still went unsolved. He couldn't rest until he'd given that kid justice. That was his job after all.

The detective gave a fierce snort through his nose. This whole situation was chafing his ass. Why the hell couldn't he find a willing witness for once? Still they did manage to glean one thing from this interrogation. Kagome had placed the secrecy of the killer's identity above achieving justice for her slain step-brother. There had only been two types of situations where that had occurred in his time as an officer. The first were accomplices trying to maintain their silence to keep their freedom. This technique rarely worked out as the evidence often overwhelmingly pointed towards their involvement. Those who talked were able to get lighter sentencing in comparison to those who didn't. In contrast the other type of witnesses who refused to talk were the ones who had something to lose. People who for one reason or another could not put their trust in the police. His lips thinned. So which was she?

"Souji." Saito called his attention. Okita turned on the ball of his heel as he glanced over to where his partner was pointing. "She's talking." It was the man's vague way of indicating that the girl had left a clue. He shoved his hands into his pockets. His index finger rubbed the familiar carton of his cigarettes. Perhaps he wouldn't need them just yet. The detective strolled to the seat that she'd been at for the past several hours. It was technique used to wear down a suspect. The longer the wait the more willing they were to talk—all for the small chance of going home for the night. Unfortunately for them they could legally hold any adult suspects for up to ten days. Of course things always got tricky after that window of time, so it was best to work quickly when dealing with situations such as these. Withdrawing his hands, Okita grasped the back of the chair pulled it back. Emerald eyes glanced sharply at the table's edge. There upon the curved wood was a carving; a small etching of a word that appeared to hold no importance. But they knew better. It meant _something_. They just had to find out what. He looked at the word once more.

_Wives_

The word was scratched into the wood crudely. She'd been quick. They'd noticed her carving earlier through the other side of the two-way mirror but neither he nor Saito had thought anything of it. They'd just believed that she'd gotten bored. She'd been restless the entire time. Okita scratched at his chin thoughtfully.

Simple, sweet and completely devoid of information. Was the kid serious right now? If she wanted to give them something, why not the killer's name? Of course that would probably be too easy. The detective scratched at his cheek. Wives? Whose wives? What was their importance? How were they connected to Inuyasha's murder? These were all questions he needed to answer. His mind went over the possibilities.

Kagome had made it blatantly clear that she was unwilling to cooperate through the usual means. She refused to speak while on camera. She also hadn't been left alone during their initial interview with her all those months ago. Both her surviving step-brother, Omoikiri Sesshoumaru, and her step-father had sat in the room with her. All this information combined lead to one conclusion. The girl was uncomfortable going public with her knowledge. She knew what happened. She was likely the _only_ person to have the answers that would close the case. But it looked as if she _couldn't_ talk. Either she was being threatened directly or another life outside of her own was at stake. His lips pressed into a thin line. She was protecting someone. This was going to become ten times more difficult if that were case. Not only would they have to earn her trust, but neutralize the threat that was holding her back. What a pain in the ass.

His eyes went back to the small etching in the desk. Even if she couldn't speak the way she wished, she was still dropping clues as to who the murderer might be. A smirk twisted across his lips. So that was how it was going to be. She'd give them clues but they would have to play by _her_ rules. He could work with that.

"Hey, you got the background info we pulled on her during the initial interview?" Okita directed his inquiry towards his silent partner. Saito nodded once. The dark haired male grasped one of the three folders he'd placed on the table. The intention was to present the evidence directly with her previous background check, camera footage and witness testaments. By doing so they'd hoped to get her to admit that she was at least there at the time of the murder. From there they could've worked her over enough to give them the name of the killer. Of course Ummei Naraku had to stick his nose in where it didn't belong. Bastard was as sharp as they came and brutal to boot. They'd screwed up by not granting her guardian access to her when they'd detained her. So the fucker went through a few loopholes and got her released early. Bastard. Sure they could go back tomorrow and detain her again but now all three would be fully prepared for such an event. They were going to secure all the hatches and make their back up plans foolproof.

They needed something to take the rug out from under them. Something that they wouldn't expect him to know. Okita flipped the folder open. It was a fairly thin file. There wasn't anything substantial enough to warrant another arrest, let alone indicate the connection between them. Only an overview of her criminal history and birth record, oh and a few changes of address as well. Still, not anything significant enough to draw his attention. The man fought the urge to sigh in frustration. The kid was good. Too damn good to be as innocent as this document was saying. Her record was fucking spotless.

He lifted it in the air, "You sure this is all? Nothing expunged or left out?"

His partner gave him a laconic stare, "That was all that was released." Ah, therein lied the problem. Because Kagome was a minor her records were sealed pretty damn tightly. Medical records, school records and other such documents could only provide so much. They'd have to go before a judge to request more if they wanted to get the truth out of them the legal way.

Brows furrowed, he dipped his hand into his pocket. It looked there was only one other way to get the answers he wanted. He grabbed his phone and pulled up his contact list. He hit the dial button on the one person that could possible help them in this situation. His work wasn't always legal but they'd worry about that when they got to the trial.

The dial tone only lasted for two rings before the person picked up. "Ah, you finally catch a lead?" The male on the other end laughed without waiting for him to speak. Okita could hear the clacking of fingers dancing across a keyboard. In the background the faint music of a popular boy band played over the rather bothersome sound.

"Heisuke," His grin grew vicious. Although it wasn't as if the other man could see it. "Your feminine side is showing." Just like that the music abruptly cut off followed by the embarrassed grunt of his colleague.

"Pretend you didn't hear that." Heisuke practically pleaded. It was always so damn easy to tease the kid. Barely nineteen and already picked up by the police station for hacking the financial account of the mayor of their little, overly wealthy town. So in place of a proper trial they'd offered the kid a choice—either go through with the trial and end up in jail for stealing thousands, or work for the station and help solve a menagerie of cases using his technical skills. Heisuke chose the latter.

Okita was sorely tempted to tease him mercilessly. However he caught sight of his partner's piercing stare and thought better of it. The man was a damn hawk. It didn't help matters that he was on the tail end of his punishment from the last time he pissed off Hijikata. For three months he'd been kicked down to paperwork duty while Saito ran the bulk of the case. It was a less than ideal situation for all involved but at least now he was granted the 'privilege' of returning to the field. The last thing he needed was to be chained up to that damn office a second time for having a little fun at their Tech Head's expense. Too bad, it was a wasted opportunity really.

"I need you to run a _thorough_ background check on someone for me." He leaned against the absurdly thin walls. Even now he could hear the rapid-fire phone calls lighting up their call center. Since the special last night they hadn't stopped ringing. Most of the information was useless but on the rare occasion some grain of truth managed to filter its way through the black hole of people wanting to feel important.

His free hand brushed against the carton of cigarettes once more. This room was stationed only a short distance away from the main entrance. Therefore it easy to hear every little detail if it was close enough to the door. His lips twitched. They really needed to do some upgrades to this place. But apparently there 'wasn't enough money' to go around for it. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of course there wasn't. There was never enough money. Not for this town. "I need you to look into Higurashi Kagome. Get me all of her previous addresses, family history, health records, grades and anything else you can dig up."

"You want the legally approved version or the down and dirty version?" He heard his colleague's typing resume at double the speed it was before.

"Make it the dirty if you get my drift." His brows furrowed. Wives. That meant multiple but could it have something to do with her mother? Touga had married at least twice before her. Could those three have something to do with Inuyasha's death? "Also, get me the dirty version of her mother's records as well. Her name is Higurashi Izumi. Think you can take care of that for me?" It was a rhetorical question.

"Ha! Give me a few hours. I'll have every dark and dirty secret sent direct to your email. Good luck!" With that the line went dead.

"We cannot use that information in court." Saito reprimanded him. He was a straight as an arrow and sometimes it was pretty damn annoying.

Okita waved his hand nonchalantly, "No need to worry. It's not for making an arrest. I just need it find the tie that holds them together." He grinned viciously, "Besides if we throw something at them that they're not expecting that that'll give us the advantage we need. Don't you agree?"

By the downturned expression and glint of disgust in Saito's gaze, he knew that the other man did _not_ agree with his sentiment whatsoever. Regardless he wouldn't interfere. It was a matter of racing against the clock. The longer the killer roamed free, the sooner he was liable to strike again. This time with Higurashi Kagome was his likely target. Okita slipped his phone back into his pocket.

He had to work fast. No longer was it just about the murderer getting away scot-free from his crime. No, now they likely had a life on the line. They were racing against the clock and both he and Saito were aware of that fact. The man withdrew the familiar carton from his pocket. He really needed a smoke right now.


	4. Crack

Disclaimer: I don’t own jack!

_Suggested Listening_ : I Walk the Line by Halsey

**_The Space Between_ **

**Chapter Four** : Crack

Night had fallen by the time she’d gotten home. Kagome leaned in her chair as she stretched her back out. By now the detectives were likely scrambling to decode the small clue that she’d dropped. She didn’t blame them for their suspicion. They had every right to place her squarely on the suspect list. She had been dumb enough to get caught on camera tossing that burner phone. Now she had to find a way to drop the clues before she went down for a crime she didn’t commit.

The teen closed her eyes and sucked a breath through her nose. This wasn’t the way she wanted to go about telling the truth regarding that night. She’d rather have just told them everything right then, but her hands were tied. It couldn’t be helped. She wanted to tell them the truth. She wanted Inuysaha’s murderer to face the strictest punishment that the law would allow. Alas, reality was never kind. Without evidence her word alone wouldn’t stand up in the court of law. Breadcrumbs were the best she could leave those detectives until they found the answers for themselves.

A soft rapping came at her door. The teen stiffened at the sudden sound.

“Kagome, open this door.” It was her mother. Her breath caught in her throat as she held still. “We need to talk.” The older woman’s voice was stern with the fury she felt. “Kagome!” Her parent tried again. She remained silent. Her light was still on but it wasn’t unusual for her to fall asleep with it like that. Most times she simply slept at her desk. She hated that bed. She hated these walls. She hated everything about this place. A palm slapped heavily against her door. “Open up, now!” Her mother began to scream. “Do you hear me? I know you’re awake!” The banging increased in volume. She pressed her hands tightly over her ears. Go away. Just go away.

“Kagome!” She began kicking the door with all the might of a furious grizzly. “Did you hear me? Open this fucking door!” It shuddered beneath her weight.

“Izumi!” Her step-father rushed down the hallway. Kagome heard his heavy footsteps thundering towards his wife. “Leave her be. We’ll discuss things in the morning.” Though muffled, Touga’s tone brooked no dissent from his spouse.

“Ha! That’s grand coming from you. Tell me, how many strings did you have to pull just to get her ass out of trouble?” Izumi’s voice grew louder with her frustration. “She’s rotten! Just like the rest of you!” Kagome flinched at the sound of skin meeting skin harshly. “Go to hell! You hear me? All of you fucking go to hell!” Her mother stomped off.

Touga sighed heavily from the other side, “Get some rest.” Those were the only words he spoke. They were directed at her. She shuddered, tucking her chin over her knees and holding her legs close to her chest.

The teen listened intently as his footsteps moved away from her door. She released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Why was it always like this? She didn’t understand it. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She hated it here. They had a nice house, nice clothes and even a nice family photo before Inuyasha’s murder. But what they didn’t have was the tie that bound them together as a family. At best, they were all just strangers living under the same roof.

Kagome stood from her desk. She shut off her light and threw a dark jacket over her. She flipped the hood to cover her face. Screw being in the house. She’d rather sleep on a bench then be around these people. With that she pushed open her window and made the steady climb down from the second floor. Lattices covered in vines were placed all over the sides of the walls. Her step-father had a particular love of French Architecture and as such chosen to decorate his house thusly. Vines, lattices, even an oversized courtyard with a hedge maze towards the back of the complex. It was a beautiful piece of property… and she absolutely loathed being on it.

Kagome cringed when her legs braced the full force of the impact from her final jump. She squatted then stood quickly to stretch the muscles. A white puff of smoke exhaled from her lips. The winter chill was getting worse. She couldn’t stay out for too long. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket. She trekked quietly through the yard and slipped past the front gate. She’d done this so often that she remembered the specific routes of the guards and their shift changes as well.

Azure eyes glanced around the area. Good, it was clear. Kagome scaled the final gate and leapt from the wall onto the pavement below. That time her knees shook from the impact. Damn, she really did need to be more careful. Her knees were still fucked from before. The teen squatted again, rubbing her palms over them until the pain ebbed away. She stood, tucked her hands into her pockets once more and began the aimless walk through the town. It was safe considering the high dollar citizenry. Very few crimes outside of the white-collar ones occurred in these little suburbs.

Azure eyes remained focused on the ground. Her legs carried her to an unknown destination as she walked. She passed rows and rows of houses that looked to be cut from the same cookie-cutter. The same style. The same doors. The same exact walkways and garages. There was no personality. Nothing.

Kagome continued towards the small hub of convenience stores and diners. That was the one thing she loved about this place. This neighborhood was placed smack dab between two other middle-class districts that were filled to capacity with local, family owned businesses. They were small but comfortable. She came to a stop in front of a convenience store. She turned then took a spot upon the center of the bench just outside its front.

The teen kept her hands in her pockets, slouched her stance and tipped her head towards the light-blinded sky. No stars. What a shame. White puffs of air continued to exhale through her lips.

“What should I do?” The question slipped past before she could stop it.

“Tell the truth.” A familiar voice responded back. She shot up. Her eyes focusing on the figure emerging into view. “Yo, didn’t expect to see you here kid.” Emerald eyes glinted at her from afar. Okita offered a quick wave as he came to sit beside her upon the bench.

“Detective,” Kagome greeted the male suspiciously. It was the aggressive one to boot. Her lips turned downwards at the thought. Did he live nearby? Or had he simply been staking out their house for leads?

Okita waved his hand dismissively, “I wasn’t stalking you. I come to this joint when I need some fresh air.” He glanced towards her with a slight quirk of a sharp smile. “What about you? Last I checked children were supposed to be in bed at this hour.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, “I wanted fresh air too. I didn’t think I’d have to worry about running into you though.” She didn’t hide her distaste at the situation. If he was offended, then he didn’t show it.

“Yeah? Well shit happens.” The detective reached into his pocket. He grabbed a carton of cigarettes and pulled one out before lighting it. A sour expression darkened her features.

“You’re going to give yourself cancer.” Kagome couldn’t help but make a snide remark. “You should quit that habit while you’re still healthy.”

His smirk grew wider, “Concerned? That’s nice of you. Still, I’m an adult and I can take care of myself. You on the other hand…” His gaze slid towards her meaningfully. “Are in a heap of shit.” And didn’t she know it. “You wanna tell me want you were trying to say earlier? Not a camera around with audio. Or any of your family for that matter.” Her shoulders twitched.

The teen glanced towards the ground as her brows knitted together. He was right. She’d wanted to tell him earlier. There were no cameras that could pick up sound and not even a single witness to see her confession here. Would that work, though? Would he try to make her give a written statement? She shook her head. She couldn’t do that.

“I can’t tell you.” Kagome kept here gaze at the concrete below her feet, not meeting his eyes directly. “You have to find the answers on your own.”

He gave a small noise at the back of his throat, “Can’t or won’t tell me?” She felt more than saw his shoulders relax and his body sink further into the bench. The scent of cigarette smoke and coffee drifted towards her. It was an odd mixture but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “You’re not the first to be in a tough spot, you know.” Okita took another drag of his cigarette. “If there’s something eatin’ at ya then you can rely on us for help. That’s what cops are supposed to be good for, right?” There was an edge of doubt that pierced his words.

She bit into her cheek. Her knuckles fisted tightly into her jacket. Help? From the detectives? It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it before. It could possibly be her only lifeline at this point. But, would that work? Could she trust this man to uphold his word?

She shook her head, “I can’t.” Kagome cringed at the break in her own voice. She sounded so weak right now. If he wasn’t suspicious before then he would be now. She didn’t dare look at him.

Okita sighed again, “Figures it wouldn’t be that easy. But you do know, don’t you? The person who killed him.” She wisely bit into her lips. Flashes of memories shot through her mind. The horrified screams of her step-brother. The unyielding fury of his attacker. The trembling of her hands as she tried to hold her phone steady. Inuyasha’s death had meant little to the person who’d killed him. Just an obstacle that had gotten in their way. She shivered at the thought. She wasn’t impervious to that fate either. She was just as expendable if she didn’t play her cards right.

“Fine,” Okita interrupted her train of thought. “I won’t ask about that right now. What I really want to know,” He paused to give her attire a disapproving glare. Besides the jacket she was still in her sweat pants and simple night shirt. She’d merely thrown the hoodie over her as a means of keeping warm for a short walk. “Is why the hell you’re out here by yourself. You’re hardly dressed for winter. Aren’t you freezing your ass off?” His tone became similar to that of a scolding parent’s. What was he, her father?

Kagome tipped her head to meet his gaze, “I needed out.” The words bore more weight than she cared to admit. She could spy the faintest bit of empathy in his eyes before he sighed. The man stood from the bench, his cigarette still in hand.

“Come on, it’d be bad if you froze yourself solid in this cold.” He gripped the collar of his coat and pulled it from his body. “Here, use this for now.”

The teen waved her hands emphatically, “I can’t! What about you? You’re just wearing a regular shirt!” She couldn’t take his coat. It was too cold! The first flake of snow began to fall from the overcast sky. Her expression shifted into one of concern. Was he an idiot? Why was he doing this? She was still impeding his investigation. Why was he being so kind?

“I’ll live. Not something I hadn’t already gotten used to anyways. Shit’s always cold at my place.” He threw a smirk over his shoulder at her. “Now come on. I think I heard your stomach growling.” At that a low rumble started up. Her face heated in embarrassment. How long had he heard? Had she simply not noticed it in her stressed-out daze? The detective laughed heartily, “Relax, kid. You didn’t get shit to eat earlier because you were at the station. There’s a diner here that’s open twenty-four seven. Let’s get you fed and then I’ll take you back home.” His grew became playful, “As a cop I can’t overlook a minor wandering the streets on her own.”

She felt her shoulders relax and a small smile form on her own lips, “Are you going to arrest me then, detective?”

“Don’t tempt me. Now come on. Your stomach is about to devour itself whole.” He took her hand and guided her down the street towards a familiar restaurant. In just that moment she began to wonder. Perhaps, she could learn to trust this man. If only just a little.

 


	5. Truce

Disclaimer: I don't own jack!

_Suggested Listening:_ Play Me Like a Violin by Stephen

_**The Space Between** _

**Chapter Five** : Truce

Okita sighed under his breath. Only he could get himself into these kinds of situations. Heisuke had sent him the down and dirty files alright. He'd managed to dig up more dirt on Kagome's mother than three landfills combined. The woman was as horrid as they came. Her long list of crimes included drug abuse, misappropriation of funds, child neglect and even prostitution. It was little wonder that her daughter had almost no faith in the adults of her life.

The detective pressed his lips into a thin line as her fingers curled a bit more tightly around his own. They were soft and callused at their tips—an obvious indication of the horrific history he knew to be behind her thanks to her mother's background check. Okita had left his house after reading through Izumi's file. He didn't have the stomach to open Kagome's just yet. His one weakness was always children. No matter how hard he tried, cases in which children were involved were always the hardest for him. He couldn't allow himself to feel sympathy for her. He couldn't let himself lose sight of his true goal. With that seared in his mind, he'd needed a quick smoke break to clear his thoughts from it all. On his way out of his local convenience store he just happened to run across the only person that could break his case wide open. He didn't believe in hunches but he knew a teen at risk when he saw one. Protocol be damned, he still had a responsibility to ensure that she wasn't doing anything risky.

Okita led her into the familiar diner. It was owned and operated by a middle-aged couple with their three teenage children. All of which were likely attending the same school as his current companion. It was simple, cheap and quiet. They wouldn't have any interruptions during their little talk here. The case aside, he needed to do some intervention first. What was the kid doing wandering out on her own this late? Why was she hardly even dressed? _Who_ was she trying to get away from? These questions were all things he needed answers to.

"Ladies first," He directed her towards a booth nestled near the back of the restaurant. It was far enough away from the sparse crowd that they would be able to talk freely. Kagome nodded her thanks. He allowed her to use his hand as a counter balance while she settled into her seat. The second her palm fell away, he took the spot across from her. He observed as she tugged his coat over her shoulders even tighter. It nearly engulfed her tiny frame entirely. The image left him at odds with himself. She looked both fragile as lost with her eyes looking at everything but him. It was difficult to treat her like a suspect like this. "Order whatever you want, kid. It's on me." He threw a reassuring smile at her.

Azure eyes snapped open, "I can't ask you to do that." The teen tried to protest. Okita waved his hand in a dismissive manner. Courtesy aside, he had his own reason for wanting to help.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not so broke that I can't feed a single brat." He threw a sharp grin at her. It was meant to lighten the mood but appeared to have the opposite effect. Her eyes turned downwards towards the table as her hands fisted tightly over her lap. The image sent him back to a time and place he'd rather forget. It's funny how at her age he was virtually the same. Suspicious of everyone and without anywhere to go. Of course he didn't anyone to call family at that time either. So perhaps she was just a bit different from him.

"Why?" The question was mumbled. He paused to glance at her.

"Why what? Why am I helping?" A smile crossed his lips. Her shoulders twitched but she didn't look up from her lap. "It's simple kid. I've got a responsibility and I'm not going to overlook that now." His response was curt and full of holes. Had it been Saito who'd found her instead then he highly suspected that the man would've either brought her back down to the station for her parents to pick up or would've just dropped her off at the front of her house without blinking. Him on the other hand, he wanted answers. The kid almost broke earlier in their interview. It was clear being away from her family helped make that happen. Perhaps lowering her guard and earning her trust would be his best bet to get her to open up regarding that night.

Kagome shot him a dissatisfied look, "I'm not going to talk." She shot right into the heart of the issue. "So just give up on that idea."

That time Okita did sigh, "You really don't trust authority figures easily, do you kid?" He gestured towards the menu in her hands. "Just order some food already. Your stomach is about to bring down the walls here." The teen's face went a bright red following the low, emphasized rumble of her stomach. She quickly opened up the menu and used it to block her view of him. The detective laughed at the display. He watched as her shoulders hunched and her head tucked further behind the small menu. That was clearly one of their differences. When he'd been her age he'd covered his discomfort with aggression. She clearly preferred to withdraw into herself. His smile slid away at the thought. Going by Izumi's file Kagome wasn't going to be easy to get to open up.

The man glanced over the options himself. He kept his eyes on the lines of text but used his peripherals to observe her subtle movements. A waitress approached, she took their orders and their menus before shuffling off towards the kitchen to input their orders. Without the barrier, Kagome turned her bodya way from him to look out the window. The teen bit into her bottom lip nervously.

"Hey," She started. "Do you think that you could… _not_ mention where you found me?" Kagome twisted uncomfortably in her seat. "My step-father," She stopped as if rethinking her words carefully. "I mean, my family doesn't know that I skipped out earlier."

Okita rested both of his arms over the back of the booth, "Sneaking out? That's not very becoming behavior of a straight A student." He didn't have to look at her to know the grimace that flitted over her features. "So, you at least want to tell me why you took off? You look like you were in a rush." He threw a sharp stare towards her. The girl lowered her head.

"It's not that simple to explain." Kagome's voice became low and difficult to hear but he still managed to catch what she said with little difficulty.

The detective closed his eyes, "I've got time. Besides, something tells me that you need to get this out. Am I wrong?" He smiled at her. She twisted in her seat again as if uncomfortable.

"No. It's just…" Her voice trailed off again. A brief flash of headlights rushed by the diner, lighting her expression before disappearing.

He could hazard a guess as to what she was referring. He sighed again, "Kid, you aren't the first to have a shit family. No matter what that portrait shows, you know exactly what goes on in your own house." Okita straightened his posture. "I did a bit of digging already. You probably got in a fight with your mom, right?" By the twitch in her shoulders he knew that he'd hit the bullseye. "Look, I could spend this whole time placating you and telling you that your situation ain't that bad but we both know that I'd just be shooting the shit at you."

Kagome lifted her head to meet his gaze directly. Her eyes grew wide with shock then narrowed as if suspicious of his intentions.

Okita waited as their food arrived. Once the waitress left, he continued from where he left off. "I'm not an idiot. I already know that your mom is a real piece of work. It'd be hard to get along with someone like that." He began to pick at his meal, not paying any heed to the subtle shifts in his companion's mood. "Let me guess, after we interrogated you earlier she decided to lay into you pretty bad after you got home right? Shit like that happens a lot. Doesn't mean that you should be wandering the streets this late on your own and dressed as if you're ready to hit the sack."

The teen was silent for a long moment. She used her utensils to roll her food from side of the plate to the other. Then after several seconds she spoke up, "What do you suggest then? I call the cops? What will they do? They haven't done anything. They _never_ do anything except tell me that I should appreciate the fact that she's even kept me around." Kagome stopped to glare over at him harshly. "I appreciate your concern detective, but don't think that I'll take to kindly to a lecture from _you_ right now. I've relied on police before and the only thing it's gotten me was a lifetime of regret." She made a move to stand but he held up his hand.

"I ain't those idiots, kid." Okita allowed his voice to grow sharp. He knew all to well what she was feeling. A long time ago he'd been the same way. No cops anywhere wanted to help him. He'd been alone, homeless and without anyone left to truly call his family. Despite himself, he felt a pang of empathy. She might not be some penniless wanderer like he'd been, but she definitely needed his help even if she wouldn't say it.

"I didn't make it to be a detective because I assumed all runaway teens were rebellious." He observed her carefully as she sat back in her seat. "I'm not telling you to call the cops if you have an issue in the future. Hell that just might make things worse in your case." The man reached into his pocket. He grasped at a small card, withdrew it then handed it over to her. "I'm telling you to call me next time if things start getting rough. There are other ways to get you out of that house if that's what you want. Running away isn't going to do you any favors though."

She reluctantly took the card from him. Her eyes scrutinized every identifying detail he'd had on it; as if she were attempting to judge whether his offer were true or just some long term scheme to get her to confess. Now, more than ever, the slight furrow of her brow reminded him of the suspicious expression he used to wear when he'd been her age.

"Why are you being so nosy?" Azure eyes flicked towards his. "All you want out of me is information. Trying to be nice to me isn't going to get me to talk." She turned to look out the window once more. "Besides, I already gave you what I could."

That sent off his alarms. In his few short years working as an investigator, he'd learned to pick up on the behavior of his witnesses. Some were petrified while others were more than willing to come forward. In this girl's case, she was definitely scared of _something_ but going to prison wasn't one of them. She was protecting something.

"Wives, right? I wanted to ask you about that but I get the feeling that you wouldn't answer me even if I did try." The officer cocked his head over his shoulder, waving down the waitress so that he could pay for their food. Once he'd finished he glanced back towards her. "I'm not going to bullshit with you right now. My offer still stands though. If you need help getting out of that shit hole then give me a call. I'll do what I can to get you where you need to be. In the mean time, we should probably get you back before they notice you've gone missing." Okita's shoulders dropped at the thought. "I'd rather not have to explain this to my superiors either."

A slight smile crossed her lips, "So I take it that we're at a truce?"

He grinned back at her, "A truce it is. Now come on. Let's get your ass home before you freeze to death. I can't have a brat's early demise on my conscious."

Kagome ran up to him with a pout written over her features. "Who're you calling a brat? You're the one who's acting like a child! All you've done this whole time is insult and interrogate me!"

"I'm a detective, that's my _job_. Now get moving kiddo!" Okita fought the urge to laugh as they left the diner. He might not be able to get the answers that he wanted from her, but at the very least he could say that he offered her something that no one else had before. He felt her hand slip into his as he led her down the street towards her house. Right now, she trusted him. As an officer, he wouldn't take that for granted.

 


	6. Gratitude

Disclaimer: I don't own jack!

_Suggested Listening:_ Silk (feat. Mothica) by Crywolf [Midoca Remix]

_**The Space Between** _

**Chapter Six** : Gratitude

Kagome tucked her legs to her chest. She'd been home for several minutes now. Okita had walked her back to the house but stayed just out of sight to ensure that she'd returned safely. Within her fingers she flipped the card over for the tenth time that night. Call him directly, huh? It was an unusual request. She brushed her thumb over the digits of the number that was listed in black ink print. He had both his office _and_ his cellphone noted in case he couldn't be reached by the other. Was this really all just a ploy to make her feel comfortable enough with him to talk? Or did he actually _care_ about a nobody like her?

The teen tucked the card away into her school bag. She couldn't risk anyone finding it. Touga would get suspicious and her mother would fall into another fit. Kagome curled into a small ball and gracelessly fell on her side on her bed. The mattress dipped with her weight.

Her eyes grew heavy as she heard the faint creaking of her door opening. She already knew who it was. Tiny feet padded across her bedroom floor. The covers lifted then fell as her mattress dipped for a second time. The young woman rolled to her side, wrapping a comforting arm around the tiny form that appeared next to her.

"Couldn't sleep?" She brushed the child's bangs from his eyes with her index finger. The boy shook his head.

"The monster came back again. It was at my door." His voice was soft and devoid of the usual cheer a child his age typically held. Her expression softened.

"It's gone now. I'm here." Kagome tried to soothe his fears. From him she'd learned one important thing about kids. Things that were 'scary' to normal adults were doubly so to them. Reality would become twisted around their overactive imaginations. A furious, strung out woman screaming at the top of her lungs would morph into a figure with fangs, claws and a piercing screech in the mind of a frightful child. He was no different.

A bitter smile crossed her lips. Perhaps it was better this way. For when the time came this would all be nothing more than a footnote of a vague nightmare he'd had long ago.

The boy buried himself within the protective warmth of her arms.

"Okay." He breathed through his nose. "Night sis."

Kagome closed her eyes, "Night Souta." Her hand combed through his hair absentmindedly. He was safe. For now, no one would hurt him. She just had to keep her silence. So long as the detectives solved the crime on their own then no harm would come to him. She stopped, her brows furrowing together tightly.

Okita was on the trail but would he be able to solve it fast enough? There was less than a month left. Her gaze drifted towards the calendar hanging from her wall. Red ink circled a date in bold lines near the end of the month. That day held more than just Inuyasha's death as its significance. If the detective didn't catch the killer by then, then their lives as they knew it would also be forfeit.

Just this once, she hoped that she was wrong. Just this once, she wanted to believe in someone. Her eyes turned towards her phone. Kagome carefully reached out to her nightstand and grabbed the device. The brightness had already been turned down so she had little to fear. The teen typed in the number that the detective had given her. She laid upon her bed for several seconds, wracking her brain for the right words to send. She ought to thank him for earlier but could she mention anything else? Kagome glanced down to the crown of her brother's head as he sighed in his sleep; unperturbed by the darkness around them.

Her lips thinned. No, she couldn't. For now she'd just stick to something simple. Once she finished typing, she hit send and tucked her phone under her pillow. That would be enough for now. The rest the detective would have to discover on his own. Her eyes slid closed as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Okita returned home with the soft clicking of his front door lock. It was dark besides the small light over the oven he'd purposely left on. He rarely cooked so about the only use it ever got was when he needed something to keep his house lit. He sighed to himself. He couldn't get too deep. He couldn't let himself feel empathy for the girl. She was still an active part of his case. The detective made his way towards through the sparsely lit living room.

The house was as cold as it'd ever been. It was an open concept design with all the main areas were connected without any half-walls. As a result, the winter chill would freeze out those very same spaces exceedingly quickly. He lifted his hand and breathed into his palms. He _seriously_ needed to fix that damn heater. This was getting ridiculous.

The detective threw his keys onto his kitchen counter. He yanked his coat from his shoulders but paused as the faint scent of cherry blossoms and rain water hit his nose. Was this from the kid? It was a soft. Not overpowering like most others he came into contact with in his line of work. He shook the thought from his head and tossed it over the back of his chair. Nope, he was not going down _that_ particularrabbit hole. He still had a job to finish.

From the short time that he'd gotten to know her, Okita had been able to glean a few details about Kagome's personality. First and foremost, she was independent. She relied solely on herself for help and, quite rightfully, had a deep distrust of authority figures.

His hand brushed against her mother's file. Five times. That was how many times the police had failed her. Five times complaints of neglect and severe abuse had been called in against Izumi. Five times officers looked at those children and walked away from them; leaving them at the hands of their drug addicted mother. A sickening feeling twisted in his stomach. In reality he didn't _want_ to read Kagome's file. All it'd do is serve to infuriate him. Alas, there was little to no evidence tying Izumi to Inuyasha's murder. If he couldn't find that tie within those files then he was fucked.

Okita withdrew the familiar carton of cigarettes from his pocket. He took a single stick and swiftly lit it. The cherry colored dot of the stem billowed a small pillar of smoke into his home. Her words from earlier in the night filled his mind.

_You should quit that habit while you're still healthy._

Stop smoking, huh? That was a tall order. He'd been doing it for the last four years. Since the day he'd turned twenty he picked up his first cigarette and hadn't put it down. It'd helped him get through the worst cases he'd ever seen. A habit born from a need to escape. His gaze dropped to Izumi's file. Looks like it was the same for her as well. Took a hit of cocaine at the tender age of fourteen and hadn't looked back.

The detective switched gears. He pushed her folder away and reluctantly opened Kagome's. The first file on top was a lengthy medical record. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and exhaled. The grey vapor of the smoke curled then drifted towards the ceiling before disappearing altogether. He held it between his fingers absentmindedly as his eyes narrowed at the information.

He shouldn't be surprised. The man fought the urge to cringe as he read through the file. Not even a few hours old Kagome had been hospitalized due to symptoms of exposure to crack. She was four weeks premature and barely over three pounds. Okita took another drag of his cigarette. Izumi had been sent to a rehab facility while her daughter steadily recovered. By the time she was a month old, Kagome had been released back into her mother's care with the judge's condition that Izumi wouldn't touch drugs again. That had been the first in a long string of failures in their system.

The detective snorted. A fat lot of good that did. He turned the page. There was a large blank spot in her history until approximately six years later when her brother, Souta, was born. She had been taken to the doctor on a spare few occasions for the typical shots and illnesses. Nothing in particular stuck out to him besides the slightly below average weight in comparison to her peers. Beside the record were notes from three separate complaints filed by neighbors. Each time the complaint would assert that severe neglect was occurring in the household and each time the police would investigate only to turn up 'nothing out of the ordinary'. He fought the urge to sigh.

Cases of child abuse were difficult to prosecute. So much so that unless the child's life was in immediate danger, authorities would usually turn a blind eye to it.

He turned the page. This one contained a photo that nearly made his stomach roil in a mixture of fury and disgust. It was a polaroid image, clearly taken by someone tasked with investigating more claims of neglect and abuse. A tower of garbage surrounded the two children. They were pale, sickly looking with the infant clutching his sister tightly and burying his face into her neck, away from the camera. Kagome kept her eyes downcast as the thin lines of her arms struggled to hold up her brother. They were starving, covered head to toe in filth and seemingly lost hope that anyone that might help them. Bile rose to the back of his throat.

There was one thing that would always be his weakness: children. More particularly, children in need. By the skin of his teeth he'd received help from Kondou during the worst part of his life. Seeing kids in situations worse than his at an even younger age never failed to get to him.

Okita pressed the back of his hand into his forehead, "Fuck me. There has to be _something_ in here." He tried to distract himself. Wives. That word ran through his mind over and over again, blocking out the image of a the children's evacuated bodies and hopeless expressions.

What connection did that have with Kagome and subsequently Inuyasha's murder? His only guess was Omoikiri Touga's long line of women that he circled through faster than a merry-go-round. The detective looked over the last of her file.

Officially Kagome had been removed that time and taken into Touga's custody. He'd been a frequent visitor of the shrine they lived on, so he had acted swiftly to protect her. There were a few suspicions that he might've even called in the complaints himself. However most were done anonymously and so he was left to speculate.

Okita glanced again. Not even a year afterward their removal, Izumi had completed her latest stint at rehab and was placed in the Omoikiri main residence as per court order to be near her children. He felt the faint twitch of his brow. The shrine had been condemned due to unsafe conditions bred from the woman's hoarding and drug addiction. So the judge's solution was to place the whole family under Touga's watchful eye? He would need a stiff drink if this was the bullshit that he was going to be dealing with later in this case.

Amongst the legal jargon there was a final line that indicated a romantic relationship had formed between Touga and Izumi in the duration of her stay. By the end, he'd married the woman. Oddly enough, he only adopted the youngest son as his child. He did not do the same for Kagome. There was no other name listed as the father on their birth certificates either. So why just adopt one and not the other? The sickening feeling in her stomach returned.

She'd been adamant about not taking the Omoikiri name. Besides the interview yesterday, she'd never been permitted to speak to them without Touga's interference. His brows furrowed. It couldn't be, could it?

Okita took out his phone. He dialed Heisuke's number and waited as the phone rang thrice.

"Don't you guys ever sleep?" The young man answered, his voice still groggy with sleep.

The detective chose to ignore the comment, "Hey, I need another favor. Think you can compile a list of all of Omoikiri Touga's previous wives and girlfriends?"

Heisuke went silent for several seconds. The younger make sucked a cautious breath between his lips, "Is that a good idea? I mean he's…" Okita didn't let him finish that train of thought.

"I don't give a damn what he is. If he's connected to this case then it's our job to investigate." His voice grew harsh. "Money doesn't matter here. Fuck his donations, we need answers." It was no secret that the man dumped a significant amount of money into their humble station. Most times it was his funds that kept their building in working order. The higher ups were going to be exceptionally cautious in investigating him.

Heisuke made a noise of disagreement on the other line, "Alright fine. I'll send you what I find. Just," he paused as if searching for the right words. "Don't go getting yourself in deep shit. You've got a bad habit with that."

Okita laughed heartily at the notion, "I'll be fine so don't worry. I've gotten through tougher guys than him before." He put his dying cigarette into his ash tray; killing what was left of its embers. "Just get me that info."

The line went dead and Okita looked over the files once more. A drug addicted mother. A teenage witness that wouldn't talk. A man with enough power to sway public opinion. The pieces were starting to fit. The real question was if his suspicion would turn out correct.

The man paused as a message lit up across his phone. He glanced down to read a text from a number he didn't recognize.

_Thanks for earlier._

He blinked then a small smile formed at the corner of his lips. It was the kid. Okita typed up a quick response and sent it. He'd have to keep his distance to maintain professionalism, but that didn't mean that he couldn't offer a helping hand. He set his phone down and made his way towards his bed. Maybe tonight he'd actually be able to sleep.


	7. A Call for Help

Disclaimer: I don't own jack!

_Suggested Listening:_ Demons by Jacob Lee

_**The Space Between** _

**Chapter Seven** : A Call for Help

A rush of warm air spread through the brightly lit room. The moderately set heater was a nice break from the frigid temperatures of the headquarters. Saito settled into a cheap, plastic chair as a balding man in his late fifties introduced himself.

"I hope this will work for your intended purpose, detective." The man offered a polite bow in greeting. "My name is Miura Yuzuru. I'm the principal of this school. Please feel free to call on me any time you need."

He offered a small inclination of his head in return, "This shall be fine and I appreciate your cooperation." The investigator turned his attention to the matter at hand. "I was under the impression that Higurashi is an active member of the kyudo club?"

Miura's withered expression brightened, "Ah yes. She is one of its most accomplished members. She's currently its Vice President. Shall I bring the other members in to you?"

Saito waved his hand, "Please do. However let's begin with her classmates first. I'd prefer to conduct these one by one rather than as a group."

The man nodded again, "Of course. I'll see to it that we make that happen."

Saito sat back in his chair. Where Okita preferred to dance along the lines of legality, he on the other hand opted for more straightforward methods of investigating. His partner was currently focused on Higurashi's familial ties. Since early that morning, all he had been investigating were the folders Heisuke had sent him. Saito fought the urge to sigh. As tempted as he was to look through that information, at the end of the day it'd be moot point if they failed to secure hard evidence tying the perpetrator to the crime.

Knowing their killer and actually being able to convict their killer were two entirely different beasts. The man paused as the first group of students were brought in one by one. The vast majority were female classmates of the girl. He sat them down and interviewed them individually. This task took a much longer period of time but he found people to be far more truthful when he spoke to them directly in such a manner.

"So you've only known her for a short time?" Saito pressed for answers.

The teen, hardly a first year, nodded once.

"Yes, we shared an extra curricular class together but that was it. I don't speak to Higurashi much but I know that she's close to the people in the kyudo club." The girl tapped her chin as if in deep thought. That was already a given considering the amount of time Higurashi spent with them. Working from a wide angle first usually helped him drive down the evidence to a single point. Once he was done here, he'd move on to people closer to her. The teen shifted in her seat, "I think she might be the club's vice captain actually. Although I'd heard that there was a bit of drama between her and the captain."

His interest peaked, "Drama?"

The girl clenched her hands over her lap uncomfortably, "I don't know all the details but apparently they'd dated for a while. I'd heard that he and Omoikiri-san fought with each other frequently and she had to mediate between them." She turned to look down at her feet. "It wasn't pretty. I don't know what happened exactly but I just remember them throwing stuff at each other. One day Omoikiri-san even took a chair and threw it through a window. He was suspended for three days along with Yamada-kun for it."

Saito took a quick note. Inuyasha and the captain of the kyudo club hadn't gotten along. Kagome had been dating him at the time so perhaps a motive was seeded somewhere in that animosity? He'd need to dig further.

The girl offered one last bit of information before she left, "I don't know any of the specifics, however I do know that Kagome is incredibly close to Yamada-kun's sister, Katsumi. Out of anyone in this school, she probably knows the most about Kagome."

With that she was dismissed. The detective knew what his next course of action would be.

"Miura," He addresses the principal. Said man stood up straight at the mention of his name. "Please bring the Yamada siblings in next. I'll speak to the brother first." The aging male gave a polite bow before he wandered out of the room.

He took a moment to think over the new pieces of information. Inuyasha and Yamada did not get along. Enough so that Kagome was forced to separate their fights. So what caused the tension? A simple case of jealousy? Or was it something deeper than that? His eyes narrowed as the door opened a second time. A young man with a muscular frame, sharp eyes and a grim expression was led towards the single plastic chair they had available.

"Have a seat." Saito gestured towards the chair. Yamada took the spot without a word. "Please state your name for the record."

"Yamada Takeshi." The answer was curt, filled with anticipation to leave as quickly as possible.

"To start, please explain your relationship with Higurashi." It was best to begin with something simpler to answer. Something the teen could qualify without feeling anxious about the meaning or subtext. Saito observed the young man closely.

"We only dated for a few months after she joined the team." He kept his head turned away and his body pushed as far back in his chair as it would allow. "After a while things died out so we decided to take a break for a while."

The investigator raised a brow. That was a rather interesting choice of words.

"You didn't get along with her step-brother?" It came off more as a statement than a question.

Takeshi shifted again, "I didn't like the guy much. He was pretty possessive over her. Not like how a brother is either." The teen's brow furrowed. "I have a sister so I know what it's like trying to keep the creeps away from her, but Inuyasha was…" His voice trailed off.

Saito took note. Perhaps jealousy wasn't rooted solely in Takeshi. Could Inuyasha have called him to that building to try to forcibly cut contact between Higurashi and Takeshi? It was a motive he needed to keep in mind.

The teen sighed, "I know this doesn't make me look good but Inuyasha had a few hang ups when it came to her. He didn't like _anyone_ going near her. I was just the first guy who hadn't put up with his crap." His shoulders sagged. "It's not like I wanted to make a bad impression on the guy. Kagome always spoke so highly of him so I wanted to give him a chance." His voice grew steely as he recounted their interactions. "But he'd started spouting all this shit and we ended up butting heads a lot."

Takeshi met his gaze directly, "Kagome and I were going to take a break for a while so Inuyasha would have some time to cool off. He'd been under a lot of stress and she didn't want to frustrate him more than he already was." There was a brief pause, as if he were trying to piece together how to word his next assertion. "Truthfully, I think he was just scared at the prospect of losing her. They'd been friends forever and he just didn't want that to end. Then, just like that, he was gone."

A flicker of grief flashed through his expresssion.

Saito studied him intently. Clearly the boys both cared deeply for the girl. However their similar personalities caused unnecessary clashes. Having seen her step-brother and boyfriend fight so viciously probably called Higurashi into action. But was this enough to clearly state that Takeshi had motivation to murder Inuyasha? His gaze hardened. His gut twisted and he knew he'd already had the answer.

"Thank you. If we have any more questions then we'll be in touch." The investigator waved to dismiss the teen.

Takeshi stood silently. He'd waited until he'd made it to the door before pausing.

"One last thing," The male cocked his head over his shoulder. "I don't know what happened or why but I do know one thing." His time hardened and his shoulders squared. "There's more going on under that roof than what Inuyasha and Kagome told us. Can't say what either, there's just this bad vibe that you can't shake when you walk through the doors. Anyways, I'll be around if you need me."

With that the door shut behind him. Saito mulled over his parting words.

Wives. More than meets the eye.

He needed something else to go on. Something more tangible that a sickening feeling in a jealous teen's gut.

"Um, excuse me." A soft, feminine voice broke through the silence. "I think you called for me?"

"Yes, please have a seat." Saito gestured towards the chair Takeshi had just left.

The girl was roughly the same age as Higurashi. Long dark hair and nervous expression.

"Are you the one investigating Inuyasha's murder?" Her voice was timid as her fingers curled tightly into her skirt.

Saito nodded once, "Please state your name for the record." He tried to shift her back on track.

"It's Yamada Katsumi and," She glanced around as if terrified. "I think Kagome might be in danger."

That hit him harder than he'd anticipated. His eyes narrowed and his tone grew sharp.

"What do you mean?" Saito peered at the girl inquisitively.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cellphone.

"She sent this to me this morning." She pushed the device towards him. On it was a single text. He felt a cold chill run down his spine as he read it.

_Please take care of Souta._

"Souta? As in Higurashi Souta?" He questioned.

Katsumi nodded, "Yes. He's her biological brother. She always told me that if something happened then I would be the only one she could trust with him." The girl's hands trembled violently. "Please, you have to find her. I don't know what's going on but this isn't like her. She'd only send this if…" Her voice cut off as tears threatened to fall.

Saito straightened his back as he addressed her concerns. "I'll look more into this message. First, was there anything unusual recently? Anything at all that might have been bothering her?"

Katsumi nodded again, "Omoikiri-san, her step-father, decided to arrange a party for her to host at the end of this month. It was supposed to be some sort of coming of age thing that a lot of the girls in that circle go through but I don't think she wanted to. She seemed really stressed out about it."

The detective thought over it again. At the end of the month? That was the anniversary of Inuyasha's death. Could her reluctance be due to that?

The girl spoke once more, "There's something else too." She waited until she had his full attention before continuing. "The day Inuyasha was murdered she'd sent another text similar to this one but it'd only said one thing."

He quirked his brow, "What was that."

"Wives."

Instinctively, he had to avoid allowing his expression to drop and show his surprise.

"I'm sorry but that's all I really know. So please, help fund her." Katsumi's voice dropped again. "Before it's too late."

Saito waited until the girl had been escorted from the room.

Wives, jealous exes, an overprotective brother and cryptic text messages. What did it all mean?

The man fished into his pocket and dialed a familiar number. He did agree with his partner's methods but perhaps that was what they needed right now to ensure Higurashi's survival.

"Souji," He greeted the male on the other end. "We need to find Higurashi."

Okita paused briefly, "So something happened?"

Saito took a breath between his lips, "It is uncertain but she'd sent a text to her friend this morning that is cause for concern." He thought for a bit longer. "I believe that the killer could be making their move if they suspect that she's given us any information."

His partner sighed heavily, "Thought so. I've got a good idea of where to look. You keep her old man busy for a little while. I've gotta go."

The line went dead. Saito glanced at his phone curiously. Keep her step-father busy? What _exactly_ was Okita planning? Regardless he needed to speak with him urgently as it were. If the girl had gone missing then he needed to verify that with her parents first and foremost.

He lifted his phone again and dialed out to a number he'd only had to call once before. Only now he hoped that he wouldn't have to bring bad news.

"Omoikiri speaking," The man answered.

The detective launched head long into the one part of dialogue he always hated the most, "Sir, may I ask you and your family to come down to the station? You're not being interrogated."

Tough paused on the other line, "What is this about?"

Saito pushed forward, "We have reason to believe that your daughter is in danger."

With that a mighty roar erupted on the other end of the line. He always dreaded this part. Telling a parent that their child was plausibly in mortal danger was never something he looked forward to.

"I'll be at the station in ten minutes. Please come when you have the chance." With that he ended the call. Saito tucked his phone back into his pocket. At this rate he only hoped that Okita's instinct panned out. The sooner they found her, the better. His eyes drifted to the courtyard outside, visible only through the tiny window across the corridor. It was clear that there were many who would miss her here.


	8. Cross Your Heart

Disclaimer: I don't own jack!

_Suggested Listening:_ Remembering Myself by Stephen

_**The Space Between** _

**Chapter Eight:** Cross Your Heart

Okita woke to the sound of his phone vibrating noisily. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, slowly sitting up to grasp at the device. Who the hell would be calling him this early in the morning? He peered out the partially cracked blinds of his window. A blackdrop of the night sky with a small line of purple amongst the horizon reflected back at him. Dawn hadn't even broken yet.

The detective peered down at the contact. Immediately his back stiffened.

_Higurashi Kagome_

Had something happened already? The man's expression stiffened as he answered the call.

"What's up, kid?" He kept his tone casual—a precaution against frightening her away.

"Detective," The teen's voice trembled. Whether out of fear or holding back tears, he couldn't be sure. "You said that you'd help? Do you think you can keep that promise?" The twinge of uncertainty was palpable in her voice. She wasn't trying to be snide or cruel. Something was wrong and even for just a moment, she was reaching out to him; trusting him.

"Tell me what you need." Okita kept calm. His instincts were already working into overdrive. The background was quiet therefore she was likely still at the Omoikiri Estate; probably hiding in one of their rarely used rooms. The fact that she likely hadn't left yet was good in its own way.

"I…" She stopped as if she'd been startled.

"What is it?" He turned to set his feet on the chilly bedroom floor. Okita braced his elbow over his knee and listened carefully for any other details on the other line. She was scared of something but _what_? His brows furrowed into a deep line.

Kagome's breath hitched with her fear, "I think we're running out of time. Can you meet me at that store from last night in two hours?" There was a second pause, this time coinciding with the sound of a door being bolted. Was she locking herself in or someone else _out_? "I can't give you the answers you want but I think there's something that you should know."

Okita closed his eyes, "Let me guess, it's something you can't say over the phone?"

She sighed, "Sorry. I'll explain what I can later. Will you be there?" There was a sharp intake of breath, as if fearful that he'd reject her request.

The man had no idea how he always got himself in these sorts of situations but if she was in need of help and looking to him for it, then he couldn't necessarily deny her. Especially after his promise last night.

"I'll be there." Okita roughly stood from his bed. He pocketed his wallet and keys before continuing. "Hey kid," A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Thanks for calling. Just do what you can. I'll be there soon."

She didn't answer. The phone line went dead and a sickening feeling twisted in his stomach. Whatever danger she was in, whatever threat the killer was holding over her head, he'd find out one way or another. He'd make damn sure of it.

Okita quickly threw on his clothes and a thick jacket. Winter was starting to hit hard and knowing the girl she'd just run out in whatever she was wearing. The man moved towards his closet and grabbed another coat from its hanger. The cloth was old, hardly wearable but it was better than nothing at all. His eyes dived over the fabric. Holes were torn where he'd used to push his thumbs through. The dark color helped to hide the previous stains from its extended use. He tucked it over his arm. The detective took his phone. He had one last call to make but hopefully it'd give him something more to work from than what he currently had.

"Heisuke," Okita greeted his colleague on the other end after he'd answered. "You got that file for me?"

The younger male made a small noise at the back of his throat, "Yeah I got it but…" He interrupted him.

"Thanks, just forward it to my email. I'll be out most of the day today. Have Hajime contact me if something happens." With that he ended the call.

_Wives_

That word had been circling around his head. What role could Touga's wives have had in all of this? The man was a known womanizer, jumping from woman to woman even during his two previous marriages. So what did their importance mean? Why would they be connected to Inuyasha's murder? Could something about them be the key to solving the case?

Okita brushed it aside. He'd have to figure it out later. Right now, there was a girl who desperately needed his help and he'd be _damned_ if he just left her there.

Memories of a biting cold wind, debilitating hunger and numb limbs came to the forefront of his mind. His fingers twitched over the spare jacket. This was a terrible idea. He knew he was compromising the whole investigation by meeting with their witness in such a way. However, his eyes narrowed, he wouldn't turn away. Not now. Not ever again.

Okita glanced at his house once as he exited the door. This place was cold as fuck, dingy and hardly worth the money he spent on it. Yet it was _home_. Despite that over-sized mansion, he doubted Kagome thought the same of her step-father's house. It may be large but it wasn't home to her.

The detective closed and locked his door. He may not be able to do much but he'd be damned if he didn't at least help her find a place she felt safe. After all, that was his job wasn't it?

* * *

Okita trailed the tips of his fingers along his carton of cigarettes. He hadn't had one since last night and the urge was hitting him pretty hard. His eyes scoured through the throng of people that passed through the doors of the convenience store. This was the place, so where was she?

The man paused as his phone went off again. Was it her? He tilted the screen towards him.

_Saito Hajime_

Ah, he probably found something.

Okita quickly answered. The longer their conversation went on, the more his brows furrowed. The kid was 'missing' and she'd sent her friend a concerning text requesting that she take care of her brother. The killer was definitely making a move. He ended the call and tried to dial out to Kagome once more. There was no ring tone. Only an automated voicemail that came standard with the phone itself. How odd, she never recorded one for herself?

The man withdrew a cigarette from its carton. He seriously needed a smoke. He'd be able to piece together all this shit better if he had one. He placed the butt between his lips and flicked his lighter open. Just as the flame touched the end of the stick, a voice called out to him.

"That's bad for your health, detective." Kagome came to his side. Her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans and a hoodie pulled over her head.

"Yeah well, I'm an adult so I can do whatever the hell I want." Okita inhaled once then turned his head away from her to exhale. An acrid curl of smoke drifted into the winter's air—blending with the overcast sky. "Anyways, you wanted to talk?"

The teen nodded, "Yes but it's…" Her voice trailed off as she glanced at the crowd suspiciously. Now he really was putting himself in deep shit.

"I take it that it's that important?" He pulled the cigarette away from his mouth; the end still leaving a trail of smoke.

Kagome glanced down at her feet. Her lips pressed into a thin line and her silence held longer than normal.

Okita sighed, "I'm going to regret this. Come on, this way." He waved his hand as he pushed off from the side of the building. "Don't worry, we're just going somewhere else to talk privately." The detective threw a sharp grin over his shoulder. "I ain't gonna do anything weird so don't panic."

She shot him a wary glance but followed after him.

"Where are we going?" Kagome didn't attempt to hide her suspicion.

Okita took another drag from his cigarette, "My place. You can't talk in public and I can't be seen with you like this either." The smoke trailed behind him in a line of coiling, grey tendrils.

The teen snorted through her nose, "So taking an underage girl back to your home is the solution? I'm beginning to question your ability to problem solve, detective."

He should've expected that one, "Don't make it sound so weird." He gestured towards her, "You tossed your phone again because you didn't want to be traced. Plus you put on that sketchy get up to avoid being recognized. Whatever it is you've got to say can't be done in public so we'll go to the only other safe option. That's all there is to it."

She cast a wary glance at him but chose not to argue. Okita wove through the backstreets purposefully; avoiding any chance of being spotted by the main threads of traffic. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he led them back to his home. This would put him in some deep shit if he got caught. Hopefully he could at least glean something useful from this meet up.

The detective ushered his companion through the side gate of his backyard. They hurried towards the door and rushed inside, hoping that no prying eyes had caught sight of them.

Kagome stepped to the middle of his kitchen where the door they'd entered had led. He couldn't see her expression but he could hear the tale tell sniffing as if she caught the scent of something disgusting.

"Your place reeks. Do you smoke inside or something?" The teen didn't hold back her critique. "Smells like cigarettes and something a bit like a skunk." Her nose twitch, "Expired espresso?"

Okita threw both his jacket and the spare he'd brought over the back of his chair, "I don't think I asked for your opinion, kid. Now sit down." He gestured towards the open seat across from him. "You wanted to talk?"

She sank into the wooden chair. Her shoulders were stiff and she kept the hoodie up, shielding her face from view. "Yeah, I did." Her tone shifted into something more guarded. "You already know, don't you?"

His brow twitched, "Know about what? I can't read minds. If there's something you want to say then you've got to be clear about it." His eyes hardened. "Why can't you _really_ talk with us at the station? Why are you using cryptic messages?" He leaned forward on his elbows, "Who are you trying to protect?" Perhaps he'd gotten a bit ahead of himself. He'd only gone out to help her yet now this was transforming into another interrogation. He _really_ needed to work on his people skills more.

The teen shook her head, "I can't give you the answers. Even if I wrote a statement it wouldn't do you any good without hard evidence to connect the killer with the crime. You have to do that on your own, detective." She wrung her hands together nervously atop the table. "It's not like I want to stonewall your investigation but you won't be able to use my testimony in the court. As an investigator I'm sure you can figure out why."

Okita pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. She had a point. Written statements without hard evidence were circumstantial at best. If they were to go to trial on her word alone then it could morph into a battle of who's the most credible witness. Given her history… Okita sighed heavily.

"I get your point, so what was it you wanted to tell me?" He tried redirecting the conversation. "Does if have anything to do with the reason why you're not showing your face right now?" The male pointed towards the still turned up hood. "You can relax while you're here, you know. It's not like I can toss you in a jail cell without having to explain why you're in my house." A light smirk touched his lips. If there was anything he was good at, then it was lightening a dark mood. He'd done it all his life so this certainly wouldn't be any different.

The teen hesitated. Her fingers played with the strings of her jacket.

"You can't freak out. Promise?" Kagome's tone went quiet.

His brows furrowed. She was shifting around—clearly nervous about his possible reaction to whatever she was hiding.

"Fine. I promise. Now will you show me? It's getting weird just looking at a void for a face." The man tried to lighten the mood once more.

Gingerly, she took the edge of her hood and pulled it back. Black strands of hair fell over her face, actively hiding what she didn't wish for him to see. He blinked once, then twice before sucking his breath.

"You promised." Kagome turned her head away. The teen's fingers trembled violently. She was petrified and for good reason. Around her neck was a dark bruise in the shape of two hands. Blood still trailed from a fresh cut at the edge of her mouth and scratch marks littered her face, neck and what was visible of her arms.

Okita could have gone off. He could have snapped, charged out of his home and demanded answers from Touga and Izumi. Instead, he quietly stood from his chair, padded into his bathroom and grabbed a first aid kit before returning to her side once more.

"Here," The man withdrew a cleansing wipe along with rubbing alcohol. "Let's get you taken care of." He cringed the closer he looked at the wounds. They weren't deep but they were meant to cause as much harm as possible. Judging by the excessive amount of scratch marks, it'd be easy to surmise that these had been left by Izumi. His lips pressed into a thin line.

"You're not going to push me to take evidence?" Kagome flinched the second the alcohol touched her skin.

"That's not what you want, right kid?" Okita didn't spare a glance. His hands kept to their task, clearing the shallow cuts of bacteria. "I can't very well force you to. Just keep this on it." He pressed gauze against it. "You want to tell me what happened though?"

He met her gaze. A flicker of uncertainty flashed in her expression. She was still scared. He'd suspected that she might've been accomplice to the murder. Now, the more he tried to close in on her the more he believed that Saito's gut feeling was correct. She was a witness too afraid to speak. In many ways, he was likely her only lifeline. He paused at that thought.

What would Kondou do in this situation? Hell, even Hijikata likely would have a better solution.

"Mom got angry at me." Kagome's voice was barely audible. Her gaze turned downwards to her feet, avoiding his eyes altogether.

"Because we pulled you into the station the other day?" He gently pressed for answers.

She nodded once.

"So she did this?" He pushed for more. A second nod.

"Touga already went to work. Souta was there so I couldn't let him see." Her shoulders began to shake. On the back of her hand he spotted the first evidence of her tears.

Okita wrapped his hands around hers. It was a simple gesture—one that he knew to be inappropriate for their situation. Yet the more he looked at her, the more he felt himself staring back at the mirror. She was only one step away from becoming a runaway or missing teen. He curled his fingers over the side of her hand. How long had it been since someone had done something like this for her? A sickening feeling twisted in his stomach. He hated this.

"You sent him to the Yamada Estate?" Okita asked. He kept his hands over hers as she calmed enough to speak between soft sobs.

"Yeah, I got him outside and told him to stay over there tonight." She shook violently within his grasp. "I couldn't do anything else. Mom was angry and when she's like that she just _snaps_."

He didn't dare look away. She was asking for his help right now and he refused to deny her what she desperately needed.

"Is that why you wanted to meet?" His question was met with a vigorous shake of her head.

"No," Kagome sniffed, "Close but that's not it. Earlier, when mom first went ballistic, she said something weird."

His brows furrowed, "Weird how?"

Azure eyes turned towards their interlaced hands, "Weird in that she said I didn't have much time left. That she knows everything."

"Everything about the murder?"

Kagome nodded again, "She said that I was on borrowed time. I think she means that the killer will try again soon. Probably the same day as the party."

At his confused glance she pressed forward, "The day Inuyasha died wasn't just a regular day for us. It was my birthday that day." The picture was beginning to fall together but he still needed a few more pieces to make sense of it all. "When a girl turns eighteen, a special gala is held to mark her entrance into adulthood in the circles that the Omoikiri family frequents. In this case, the gala for my birthday is going to be held the same day as the anniversary of Inuyasha's death."

Okita narrowed his eyes, "So they're planning something then?"

The teen sighed, "I don't know. I tried to get it out of her but this happened." She gestured towards her neck. Kagome's grip on his hands tightened. Her eyes sharpened as she leaned over her knees, "I know I'm not making this easy. I want to be honest but I _can't_. I don't know what the plan is or anything. I can't take any risks right now. Please," her voice rose several notches with her desperation. "You _have_ to find the killer on your own. Bring them to justice and end this charade once and for all. I can't do anything. I don't have the power, resources or clout to take them down. But you just might be able to."

Okita met her eyes fiercely. There was so much uncertainty and desperation. Truly, it was just like he was looking at himself when he'd been her age.

"Kid, I won't go making any empty promises to you but I will say this." He pressed his thumb and index finger to her chin, forcing her to look at him when she'd turned her eyes away. "I will do everything I can to get you out of that house. Just put your faith in me, think you can do that?"

A small smile touched her lips, "I'll try."

He grinned widely back at her.

"Good, now just make yourself at home here for a little while. I've got to head down to the station." He donned his coat and grabbed at his keys.

Kagome cocked her head. A curious look clouded her expression.

"Apparently my partner called your step-father down after you sent that text to the Yamada girl." Okita pulled another cigarette from the carton. He pressed it between his lips and lit the end with his lighter. "I'll go feed some bullshit excuse to him for now so you can take some time to calm your nerves. Frankly I don't think it's safe to send you back just yet given what your mom did, so just sit tight until I get back. You good with that?"

Kagome stared up at him in shock, "But won't you get in trouble? This is against protocol isn't it?" The teen chewed on her bottom lip nervously.

Okita gave a short snort of laughter, "Kid, just focus on yourself. I'll worry about the other shit. You're still just a brat so let the adults do all the difficult crap, alright?"

She quirked a brow at him, "You call yourself an adult?"

That time he didn't bother hiding his amusement. "Yeah yeah. If you want to leave just go out the way we came in. Careful of the neighbor on the right though. Woman is a nosy little hawk." The man made his way across the living room before stopping by the door. "I'll be back in a few hours. So don't worry. Just let me handle this." Okita didn't look back nor did he stop to contemplate his rather questionable actions. He merely offered a quick wave of departure as he left the house.

He'd keep the girl safe for as long as he could. What still remained was a mystery he was starting to get a better grasp of. Perhaps wives wasn't meant as a particular person but a shared trait among the women Touga had dated. The detective tucked his hands into his pockets. He'd think about that later. Right now, he _really_ needed to think of a good excuse.

There was no good reason for an underage teen to be staying at an unrelated man's house in the eyes of the law. If he was caught harboring a run away then the penalties would be stiff. Especially with Touga at the helm of leading those charges. A cold chill shot through his body at the thought. He'd just dropped himself in a heap of shit, hadn't he?


	9. Death to the Charade

Disclaimer: I don't own jack!

_Suggested Listening:_ Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez

_**The Space Between** _

**Chapter Nine** : Death to the Charade

Kagome took a quick glance around the detective's home. Aside from the overpowering scent of cigarettes and coffee, he kept things pretty tidy. She cocked her head to the side curiously. She'd somehow expected for his home to be much more messy. Considering his job she'd just assumed that he wouldn't have had much time to keep things looking nice. Her eyes swept across the room. The chairs were neatly organized, his small DVD collection was alphabetized and there wasn't a book out of place.

Yet the walls were stained a soft shade of yellow; likely from the nicotine of his smoking habit. Did he not at least open his windows when he used them? She bit the inside of her cheek. Was he just too tired to do it? Or had he just gotten that comfortable in his own habit? Either way it was going to destroy the overall value of his house if he didn't watch it.

The young woman approached the cabinetry in his kitchen. Well, he was kind enough to let her stay in his home despite the risk to his career. The least she could do was help clean some of the walls and floors. She did _not_ want to pilfer through any of his "secret drawers". Those would be best left as a mystery.

The teen crouched down as she peered under the sink. Two full bottles of floor cleaner and bleach were left unopened. Her brow twitched. Maybe his job just kept him too busy to do little more than straightening up. She pulled out the bottles and scanned the area for the rest of the supplies. Now where was a bucket, rag and mop? Surely he had to have them around here somewhere. Kagome peered towards the door that led to the tiny garage. Could it be out there? She rose to her feet. It'd be a safer option than searching his personal bathroom. She shuddered at the thought. Nope, she was definitely not going to go in there.

She pushed open the door to the garage and reached for the light switch. The area became bathed in light, showcasing a space filled with neatly organized boxes. Each one labeled with their exact contents. It was a neatly organized disaster of box columns. How he did it was a complete mystery.

She made her way further inside, scanning for anything remotely like cleaning supplies.

Now where would they be? She shuffled over towards a metal cabinet. He didn't seem to have a car so it possibly would be in there. She lifted her hand and pulled back the door. Inside was the bucket, mop and rag she'd been searching for but something else as well.

It was a small box, hardly big enough to fit a few portraits. The flaps were partially opened, revealing a short stack pictures most of which were of him and an older woman that bore a very similar resemblance. She had the same brunette hair and emerald eyes but there was something sharp about her gaze; _piercing_ almost. By the downturn of her lips she guessed that the relationship was not likely a positive one. She didn't seem old enough to be his mother so perhaps a sister? Kagome didn't pay much heed to it. The detective's history was none of her business. If he wanted to tell her of his own volition then that was one thing. As of now her only goal was to clean, not to snoop.

She made her way back out, ensuring to shut off the light and close the garage door behind her. She had _a lot_ of work ahead of her but if she was lucky she could get it done in a few hours. A small, determined smile lit across her features. She'd have this cleaned before Okita came back. That she was intent on seeing through.

* * *

Okita sighed to himself. How did he _always_ put himself in the middle of tricky situations like this? He was hardly a block away from the station and no closer to figuring out a good excuse for her absence. If he was caught harboring a runaway then he'd might as well just throw his own ass in jail. Troublesome kid.

He reached into his pocket, searching for his carton of cigarettes. His fingers brushed against the edge. What the hell was he gonna say? That the kid was alright and not to worry? That wouldn't fly. Especially not with Hijikata keeping an eagle eye on his ass after the last fuck up.

The detective withdrew a stick before reaching for his lighter. All it'd take was one more screw up and he'd be tossed back out to the streets. Kondou wouldn't be able to protect him from something of this magnitude. Okita paused, pulling the cigarette from his mouth. Fuck, he hadn't the first idea on what to do.

"Souji," His partner's familiar voice sounded off from a few feet ahead of him. He glanced up in time to find Saito approaching him, his brows furrowed in concern. "Did you find her?"

Okita sucked in a breath. Should he lie? Tell a partial truth? Shit, he didn't know.

"Kid likely went to a friend's house." He started out smoothly. "I'll go check in with a few of them to see if she's there." He swiftly redirected the conversation. "Has the killer made any contact yet?"

Saito narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously, "Not as of yet. You think it's related?"

Okita shrugged nonchalantly, "It's a possibility. Besides, I've got a few questions I want to ask Omoikiri."

His partner shot him a baleful glare. The disapproval was thick in his outward expression. Words were not necessary for him to grasp the full depth of his partner's obvious distaste of that idea.

He held up his hands, "It's not anything huge. Just need to learn more about the kid's family life." His eyes narrowed. "Besides I've got a hunch that the real target might've been the kid all along. We just need to figure out why."

Saito trailed after him into the building, "Why are you so certain of that? The perpetrator could have easily gone after Higurashi first. Omoikiri Inuyasha was a more difficult target."

Okita smirked, "Not all killers murder because they find it fun. Some kill because the victim was in their way." He made his way into the half-broken elevator. The corner was practically torn to shreds and the inner wall of the shaft visible through it. "If Kagome is their target then Inuyasha would've protected her. The real question is from _what_ and _who_."

They breached their level in silence. They made their way to the interrogation room. Already Touga and Izumi were waiting for them. The man was flushed in fury while she clung to his arm, tearfully begging him to stop. A sickening twist coiled in his stomach. She was a wonderful actress. It was no surprise that she'd managed to skirt the system for so long with such oscar worthy tears.

Okita narrowed his eyes at the pair, "So." He began as his tone drained from all of its usual warmth. "Let's have a talk."

He may not be the best damn detective in the world but he knew a fucked up household when he saw one. This was no different. The vague memories of bone-chilling cold, hunger pains and the sting of displacement rushed forward in his mind. This case wasn't just business anymore. It was getting personal on a level he was growing uncomfortable with.

Even if he couldn't find the killer, he'd make damn sure that girl didn't have to suffer anymore. Not like he did.

A caustic smile spread across his lips, "So who wants to go first?"

This charade would end.


	10. Safe Haven

Disclaimer: I don't own jack!

_Suggested Listening:_ Don't Close Your Eyes by Sam Tinnesz

_**The Space Between** _

**Chapter Ten** : Safe Haven

Sweat formed in small rivulets across her skin. Kagome wiped the back of her hand over her forehead. She'd forgotten how _hard_ it was to scrub walls with only a rag and some cleaner. She could hardly reach the areas she'd needed to. It'd been some years since the last time she'd been forced to scrub everything down. The previous time was much more difficult though. Her brows twitched in irritation. Well, it looked like there was only one option left.

She was going to have to mop the walls.

It was the only thing that could reach where she needed to. She only hoped that the effort would pay off. The young woman pressed the mop into the semi murky water. She'd been forced to change it three times by now. The baseboards, floor and countertops were scrubbed clean but that still left the upper sections of the walls. She couldn't leave those stained that atrocious color. Kagome strained the excess before setting it against the wall and scrubbing forcefully.

Yellow melted away to white the harder she pressed. Hours flew by and her elbows began to ache in protest. Just a little bit more. Azure eyes narrowed at the task at hand.

She had no idea when the detective would return home from work. If he was dealing with the fallout of her decision to runaway, then it'd likely be a late night for him. A twinge of guilt pulled at her consciousness. She felt bad for having put him in the middle like that. She was fully aware that he was risking more than just this case by harboring her; he was risking his very livelihood.

Kagome chewed on the inside of her cheek nervously. She didn't like feeling as if she were a burden. Even if she couldn't give him what he really wanted, she could at least do this. It was better than sitting around, doing nothing at all and letting the fear worm it's way into her psyche. She needed the distraction.

The teen glanced towards the clock. It was already half past five. If she hurried, she could probably finish the rest before it hit six. Determination filled her. She'd keep focused. That was the only thing she could do.

* * *

Okita looked between husband and wife suspiciously.

"You!" Touga shot up out of his seat. Fury mottled his features. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be searching for my daughter?" The man's voice raised several notches. That was an ironic demand for a man that never adopted said daughter. Alas that information hadn't been obtained legally so he was forced to use a different method.

He didn't pay Touga any mind. Instead he focused his sharp gaze on Izumi's sobbing figure. A twist of fury clouded his view. The bruising and scratch marks on Kagome's face and neck flickered in the back of his mind. His fist clenched tightly at his side. This woman was an actress. She was good at hiding herself until the last possible second. He'd need to tear away at her defenses and leave nothing but the truth behind.

"Where were you this morning, Miss Izumi?" He purposefully ignored Touga's overbearing presence. She didn't raise her head. She hardly acknowledged him besides the slight whimper in her voice. Okita's eyes narrowed further. "Let me rephrase the question. Do you know what happened to your daughter?" He was needling her. Touga already had his alibi checked out. He'd been at work with his oldest son, Sesshoumaru. The other man had vouched for his father's presence at the company. Which meant that only one person could have been witness to Kagome fleeing from the house; Izumi herself.

Touga paused mid-rampage. His eyes widened then refocused on his sobbing wife. A flash of realization flickered in his eyes. Now came the truth. Was Touga aware of Izumi's abuse? If so, how would he deal with it? Was he the passive enabler? Was he an aggressive protector? Okita observed the couple closely. He needed this information. It was necessary to not only get Kagome somewhere safe, but to get to the bottom of the reason why the killer had chosen her specifically. There was something in her life that made her a prime target. He just had to find out what that was.

"… it." Izumi's voice came in softly. He quirked his brow at the display.

"Come again?" Okita pushed her a little more.

"I didn't do it." Red rimmed eyes turned up at him. Her chin wobbled with the unreleased tears in her eyes. It was a good show but that was it. There was no substance, no true _feeling_ behind her little act. "She was gone when I woke up this morning. Her bed was empty."

Touga settled a suspicious glance on his wife. He was clearly aware of the tumultuous relationship between the two. So how would he respond.

"Is that so? Then why was Souta found at the Yamada Residence?" He pushed even further. "A girl like that doesn't ship her brother off on a friend without good reason." He dropped his voice into a low growl. "So how about we cut the bullshit. This little song and dance you're working doesn't affect me. What happened this morning?"

Izumi buried her face into her arms; hiding away from his prying eyes. That's all this woman could do. Just run away from her problems as if they didn't exist. It'd worked for her thus far but it wouldn't work now.

A long moment of silence passed.

The memories of his own youth kept flooding back to him. It didn't help that the weather was as cold now as it was then. He just couldn't escape the damn winter.

Touga sighed, "I'd like to speak with my wife about this privately. We are not being arrested so we will leave things at that for today." Golden eyes snapped to him intently. "Find my daughter detective, or find yourself without a sponsorship."

Ah there it was. The power play he'd been waiting for. Hijikata was going to flip his shit but this next part was _necessary_. Not only for the case but for Kagome's safety as well. Okita stood from his position. He tucked his hands into his pockets and settled a fierce glare on the man.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Omoikiri-san." He grabbed at his carton of cigarettes. Damn he really needed one. Too bad he couldn't light up inside the station. "The killer is still loose and right now those kids need you more than ever." His expression grew serious. He didn't have anyone to talk to his family when he was her age. He didn't have someone who gave half a shit if he'd died on those streets. He didn't want that for her. She deserved more than that fate. He met Touga's gaze, "You've got a decision to make. Your wife," He gave a brief glance to the sniffling woman. "Or those kids. You and I know that you can't have both."

Touga was silent. His lips pulled downwards into a thin line. The man clenched his fists at his sides.

"We're leaving."

Just like that the pair was gone. They rushed out of the building, leaving Okita to stare after them. His partner came to stand beside him. He'd remained silent for the duration of the interrogation. It seemed that he had chosen to let him do as he needed.

The man gave him a cautious glare. There was more than one reason why they'd been partnered together. Their opposing personalities worked well on the hunt for perpetrators. The old fashioned good cop, bad cop routine was their go to. But that wasn't the only reason why Hijikata has assigned them together. Back in his days as a beat cop he'd earned a reputation for being hot blooded and impatient. It was his greatest flaw. Saito was to serve as the brakes to his volatile nature. Not that it worked though.

"What was that?" Saito's voice came in cold. "Do you prefer being at that desk?" He pointedly reminded him of his previous punishment. Okita shrugged his shoulders.

"I ain't kicking a bear to see if it'll bite." The detective set his cigarettes back into his pocket. He'd smoke one later. For now he needed to head back home and check on the kid. It wouldn't be wise to leave her on her own for so long just yet. He turned his attention towards his partner, "She's got a bad relationship with her mom. If the killer wants to get the girl then he'll take advantage of this time."

The dark haired male furrowed his brows, "Then I'll set a patrol out to search for her. She can't be left on the streets for long."

Okita felt a wry smile pull at his lips. One thing was for sure. The kid wasn't as alone as she thought she was. It was a good sign.

"Sure. I'll check around some of her friends' places. Kid probably just wants some space and needed to get out." He started walking towards the exit. "She'll show up tomorrow. I just needed to put a bit of pressure on Omoikiri." Sensing Saito's question he continued. "We want her to talk. She's not going to do that if she thinks her family is at risk. Getting her separated from Izumi is gonna be the start to gaining her trust." He scratched at the back of his neck. "Only problem is that the only way to _really_ make that happen is to force Omoikiri's hand."

His partner scowled, "So you're taking advantage of their fight to encourage him to divorce his wife?"

Okita smirked, "Something like that. Really all he needs to do is get the kids out from her influence. We get him to do that, she might just talk."

Saito's expression grew dark. He didn't have to say what they both knew he felt. They were two very opposing sides to the same coin. Their goals were the same. Their jobs were the same. But their methods were so vastly different from one another.

Okita lifted his hand and gave a short wave.

"See you around, Hajime-kun. Keep me updated if you find anything." With that he walked out of the headquarters.

Kagome was safe for the moment. He'd drop her off in the morning when things calmed down. It was the best he could do for her at the moment.

The man left without glancing behind him. He tucked his hand back into his pocket and grabbed a single cigarette. He withdrew a lighter with his other hand and pressed the small flame against the butt. A cherry red dot glowed in the darkened alleyways. A trail of smoke curled behind him; twisting and fueling until it dissipated into the winter's air.

He rounded through the labyrinth of side streets and shady buildings. It was funny how close true crimes lurked to suburban neighborhoods. He was a stone's toss away from headquarters by comparison to his coworkers yet his house was nestled in a place that was unique in its own way. It was nice with plenty of small family run shops around, but just past the third block was one of the seediest neighborhoods around. It was an odd conflict of cultures. He was close enough to keep an eye on things while far enough to maintain his distance.

The man rounded the final path down the street to his home. It was quiet besides the Itou family's dog on the house to the left. That thing was a little yapper, constantly barking at everything that passed by the window. Okita plaintively ignored it. He finished his cigarette and snuffed it out beneath his heel. His eyes shot towards his house. The lights were left off. Which meant Kagome was either keeping a low profile or she'd already left.

His jaw clenched. Only one way to find out. He pushed his key into the lock and twisted. Hearing the soft click, the detective pushed open the door. His eyes scanned the area cautiously. The scent of his floor cleaner burned at his nose. Had she cleaned?

"Kid? You in here?" Okita called out tentatively. The living room was still dark. Night had fallen making it difficult for his eyes to adjust to the shift in his vision.

"I'm on the couch." Kagome responded softly from within the darkness. "I didn't want to draw attention so I kept the lights off."

His hand went to the switch. He flicked on the lights and was forced to do a double take of his own home. We're his walls _always_ that white? He couldn't remember. Seeing the shock flicker over his expression she continued.

"I thought I should do something as a thank you for letting me crash here." Her face turned towards the ceiling as a faint line of pink went across her nose. "I didn't go touching any of your personal stuff though. I just scrubbed off all the nicotine from the walls, floors and counters in this area." Her eyes narrowed at him. "Speaking of, haven't you ever heard of opening a window? You'll damage your resale value if you ever try to move."

His lips quirked upwards. He rather liked this change in demeanor in her. Definitely much more refreshing than the fear she'd expressed earlier. This somehow suited her more.

"Worried? I appreciate it but there's no need." The detective shrugged out of his coat. He threw it over the back of his chair as he made his way into his kitchen. "Anyways I can't go shopping but what do you feel like eating? I ain't gonna let a minor go hungry under my watch."

"Hey I'm only a minor for a couple more weeks." She crossed her arms over her chest petulantly. "Besides I can cook. You've already done enough."

He didn't miss the concern in her voice. She clearly understood the position he'd placed the both of them in. He kept his smile.

"So? I decided to do this, not you." He opened up his pantry and took a good look around. He might not have had much in the way of cleaning supplies, but his food was always stocked. "Anyways you best tell me now otherwise I might cook something you'll _hate_." His lips stretched into a wide grin.

Kagome took a seat at his table. Her eyes observing him like a hawk, "I honestly don't care. Also," She met his eyes shyly. "Thanks again for doing this."

Okita shook his head. He gathered up several ingredients before starting work on a simple, easy to make meal. "It's fine kid. I asked you to rely on me if you needed so that's what you did. I can't exactly blame you for doing what I asked you to." He felt the slight twinge of satisfaction. "If you two get into it again or if you think she's going to go off on you then come back here."

He started up his stove. He wasn't the greatest cook in the world but he knew enough to get by. The man placed the strips of meat across the pan as he pressed onward.

"You can come up with an excuse or something to avoid panic but this place is open for you as long as you need." He set a timer for the meat. "Better than having you running around on the streets by yourself. Take it from me kid, being out there is dangerous. _Especially_ in your situation."

He turned his back and rested against his counter. His features drew into a concerned scowl.

"Sleeping out on benches isn't the sort of thing teens like you need to be doing. This place is safe so just crash here when you need." He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to light another smoke. The girl spent hours cleaning his house. He wouldn't screw up her hard work by doing that in front of her. "I'll figure out the rest so you can keep doing what you need to."

Kagome stared up at him. Her face had shifted between shock, discomfort and finally settling on embarrassment. She was an open book to read when she was like this. A small smile pulled at his lips. It was nice.

"Thank you, detective."

He waved off her gratitude by plucking the finished food from the pan.

"Don't worry about that and just eat. I heard your stomach screaming a mile away."

Her face turned red as she tried to focus on the food in front of her. Okita took the seat beside her, calmly eating at his own meal. This had been the first time since he'd moved in that he had someone eat with him at this table. It wasn't a bad feeling. Not at all.

The pair settled on the couch next to each other after dinner. Neither spoke much but Kagome remained silent, glancing between him and the television curiously.

"Detective," Her voice was tiny. Hardly audible above the game show he'd turned on to help put her at ease. "Why are you doing this?" Azure eyes looked to him—piercing through him with the depth of her curiosity and cautiousness. She was still so skittish towards authority figures. Not that he blamed her.

He took a breath through his nose.

"That's not an easy answer." Okita smiled at the young woman warmly. "But just think of it as me doing my job. You need help and so that's what I'm going to do."

Kagome threw him a suspicious glance, "So taking in runaway minors is apart of your job? Wow, I didn't think the police force endorsed that sort of thing."

Damn she was cautious. A laugh fell from his mouth. He reached up, placed his palm over the crown of her head and gave it a rough tousle.

"Hey!" Kagome tried to protest.

"Don't make it sound so sleazy." He withdrew his hand and focused his attention back on the screen. "You're a good kid from what I can tell, Higurashi." She blinked the second he referred to her name. "Don't go fucking up your life like I did. That's all that I'm asking."

She sat back. Her eyes shifted towards her feet. A thoughtful look crossed her features.

He didn't push the subject further. If she wanted to open up to him then he'd have to gain her trust first. This was merely the first step towards that goal.

"Take it easy tonight. We'll figure the rest out tomorrow." He gave her hair another tousle. Kagome curled her legs to her chest and nodded once. She tucked her arms beneath her knees as she settled in to watch the show. As time passed her eyes slowly drifted closed. She nodded off, her body leaning into his heavily.

Okita blinked. Had time really gone by that fast? He looked towards his temporary charge. Her face was peaceful and her eyes were closed—a clear sign that she was fast asleep. He fought the urge to sigh. He couldn't just let a girl sleep out on his couch. Pressing one arm behind her shoulders and the other beneath her knees, he lifted her into the air. His brows knit together in worry. She was light. _Too light_. Was she eating enough? Or was she hiding out and feeding on scraps to avoid her family? He shook his head. He'd worry about that later. For now he needed to get her to bed.

Okita carries her to his room. He'd kept his place tidy so he had little to worry about in regards to that issue. The man gently lowered her onto the mattress, pulling back the sheets just far enough so he could put her beneath them.

The detective shifted her legs onto the bed fully and tucked her arms to her side. He tugged the bedding up to her neck before heading towards his closet. He grabbed a spare blanket and pillow before making his way back out to the living room.

Okita casually tossed them onto his couch before settling over it comfortably.

Saito had one thing wrong about him. He wasn't completely without his set of morals. There were two things that he could never overlook: abuse and starvation. The kid had struck both and he'd be damned if he left her to wallow in that hell hole.

He turned on his side. Emerald eyes drifted closed as he tried to push out the memories of his past.

This was going to be a long night.


End file.
